IN  THE 


SADDLE  WITH  GOMEZ. 


BY 

CAPT.  MARIO  CARRILLO. 


NEW  YORK : 

HURST  &  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS. 


Copyright,  1898, 

by 
F.  TENNYSON  NEELY. 


Copyright,  1903, 

by 
HURST  &  COMPANY. 


STACK 
ANNEX 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

CHARLES    A.    DANA, 

CUBA'S  BEST  FRIEND. 

THIS  BOOK 
IS  GRATEFULLY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE. 

SEVERAL  of  the  stories  which  form  this  book 
were  originally  published  in  the  "Illustrated 
American. ' '  It  would  have  been  easy  for  the 
author  to  have  increased  the  number  of  pages 
which  he  now  offers  in  this  volume  by  simply 
relating  the  misery,  the  agony  and  the  non- 
exaggerated  martyrdom  which  the  Cuban 
people  have  suffered  in  their  struggle  for 
liberty. 

He  has  refrained  from  so  doing,  as  the 
American  public  is  fully  aware  of  that  horrible 
drama,  and  also  because  his  intentions  have 
been  to  avoid  describing  such  somber  scenes. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH  GOMEZ, 


i. 

MY  FIRST   BATTLE. 

TO-MORROW  we  would  meet  the  enemy.  Gen 
eral  Gomez  had  called  his  officers  together,  and 
the  plans  of  the  battle  had  all  been  discussed 
and  arranged. 

I  had  joined  the  general's  escort  only  the 
day  before,  had  not  as  yet  been  in  a  fight  or 
skirmish  of  any  kind,  and,  like  all  men  of  my 
age,  I  longed  for  the  rattle  of  musketry  and 
the  odor  of  burned  powder. 

Now,  as  I  lay  on  the  ground  wrapped  in  my 
blanket  before  the  fire,  in  front  of  which  some 
pieces  of  beef  were  slowly  roasting  (my  break 
fast  for  the  following  morning,  I  began  to 
think  over  the  incidents  of  the  day  and  of  the 
coming  battle. 


12  IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

New  to  a  soldier's  life,  everything  had  a 
charm  for  me. 

We  had  made  a  long  and  tiresome  march, 
and  my  weary  bones  ached  painfully ;  the 
ground  seemed  harder  than  ever,  and  in  aston 
ishment  I  gazed  at  the  sunburned  warriors 
around  me,  wondering  how  they  could  appear 
so  comfortable  and  sleep  so  soundly  while  I, 
from  sheer  weariness  and  excitement,  could 
scarcely  close  my  eyes.  How  was  it  that 
they,  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  which  was  to  de 
cide  the  fate  of  so  many,  could  appear  so  un 
conscious  and  indifferent?  I  wanted  to  talk, 
to  ask  qestions ;  it  was  only  the  idea  of  appear 
ing  unsoldierly  that  kept  me  from  giving  vent 
to  my  feelings. 

So  to-morrow  I  would  be  under  fire  for  the 
first  time !  What  would  I  do  ?  How  would  I 
feel? 

Would  I  be  able  to  stand  up  to  my  duty  like 
a  man,  or  would  I  find  myself  quaking  with 
fear  at  the  first  sound  of  the  musketry  ?  All 
the  stories  I  had  ever  read  of  battles  came  up 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  13 

before  me,  and  I  remembered  tales  of  men  of 
indomitable  courage  whose  first  experience  had 
been  that  of  abject  cowardice,  whose  inclina 
tions  had  been  to  seek  safety  in  flight. 

Perhaps  it  all  meant  death,  and  that  to-mor 
row  I  should  be  lying  stark  and  stiff  in  some 
wayside  ditch,  a  forgotten  part  of  the  little 
band,  and  die  as  many  another  soldier  had 
perished  in  his  first  encounter  with  the  enemy. 

I  pictured  to  myself,  as  I  lay  there,  a  rough 
field — the  scene  of  the  battle ;  overhead  hung 
huge  clouds  of  smoke,  through  which  the  rays 
of  the  sun  could  scarcely  pierce;  the  dead  and 
wounded,  mingled  in  horrible  confusion  with 
mutilated  horses,  useless  machetes  and  guns, 
and  on  every  side  sorrow,  pain,  blood  and 
desolation. 

I  could  see  the  body  of  a  boy,  shot  through 
the  breast.  On  his  face  an  expression  of 
agony  still  lingered,  while  one  hand  was 
pressed  to  his  wound,  his  shirt  stained  dark- 
red,  marked  where  his  life-blood  had  slowly 
ebbed  away,  and  his  wide-open  lids  showed 


14  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

his  glassy,  motionless  eyes,  which  no  kind 
hand  would  close  ere  his  body  would  be  thrown 
hurriedly  into  an  unmarked  grave. 

Slowly  the  embers  of  the  fire  grew  dimmer 
and  dimmer;  and  calmed  by  the  stillness  of 
the  camp,  I  fell  asleep. 

I  awoke  to  the  sound  of  ' '  reveille. ' '  Hastily 
saddling  my  horse  and  rolling  my  blanket,  I 
soon  took  my  place  in  the  line. 

In  the  distance  could  be  seen  the  enemy's 
forces  slowly  approaching,  the  rising  sun  shin 
ing  on  their  equipments  :  one  long,  black  line, 
looking  for  all  the  world  like  a  huge  serpent, 
which  seemed  to  extend  itself  far  on  the  plains. 

A  sound  like  a  thunder-clap  rent  the  air — 
the  enemy's  challenge. 

General  Gomez,  together  with  his  staff  and 
escort,  were  posted  well  to  the  south  of  the 
field.  On  the  west  side  was  General  A.  Maceo, 
with  some  one  hundred  and  fiftv  horse,  while 
to  the  east  were  four  hundred  cavalrymen 
under  the  orders  of  Major  Cepero.  Away 
down  the  field  was  the  infantry,  deployed  in 


IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  15 

line  of  skirmishers,  four  hundred  strong :  the 
famous  Oriental  infantry, — men  who  had 
fought  for  three  months,  day  by  day,  and  who 
knew  not  what  fear  was,  though  now  driven 
well-nigh  desperate,  for  fortunate  was  he  who 
had  a  completely-filled  ammunition  pouch. 

Our  fate — the  fate  of  Cuba  and  her  people — 
was  to  be  decided;  the  men  knew  it,  and 
fought  only  as  men  can  who  see  their  brothers 
every  moment  cheerfully  give  up  their  lives  for 
their  country. 

The  battle  waged  fiercely ;  our  men,  out 
numbered,  were  fast  being  driven  back,  and  as 
I  looked  with  excited  eyes  on  the  scene  I  heard 
General  Gomez  say  to  an  aide:  "Tell  General 
Maceo  to  charge  the  left  flank,  Major  Cepero 
the  right,  and  I,  with  my  escort,  will  charge 
the  front.  At  the  bugle-call  the  infantry  will 
cease  firing. ' ' 

As  the  bullets  whizzed  by,  shells  shrieked, 
and  men  dropped,  something  seemed  to  clutch 
at  my  heart;  the  perspiration  stood  out  on  my 
face,  my  knees  shook,  my  feet  rattled  against 


16  IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

the  stirrups ;  everything  swam  before  roe.  I 
tried  to  speak,  but  could  not,  for  my  tongue 
felt  as  if  it  had  turned  into  lead. 

I  argued  with  myself,  called  myself  a 
coward,  and  tightened  the  grip  on  my  machete  : 
all  of  no  use.  I  was  seized  with  the  fright  of 
a  soldier  who  is  about  to  enter  into  action,  and 
who  knows  that  possibly  death  awaits  him. 

Suddenly  our  captain  gave  the  order  to 
charge ;  forward  we  went.  The  thundering  of 
a  thousand  hoofs  seemed  to  echo  in  my  head, 
intermingled  with  the  roar  of  the  artillery,  the 
rattle  of  our  arms,  and  the  cries  and  oaths  of 
the  men. 

The  sensations  of  a  moment  before  had  left 
me,  and  I  now  urged  my  horse  on,  my  machete 
in  my  hand,  shrieking  and  shouting.  My 
blood  seemed  on  fire.  A  volley  from  the 
Spanish  square.  For  a  moment  we  hesitated ; 
then  faster,  faster,  harder  and  harder,  like  a 
human  avalanche,  we  tore  across  the  field,  until 
with  a  crash  we  broke  into  the  square ! 

Carried   away  by  the    impulse   and   enthu- 


IN   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  1? 

siasm,  by  the  cries  and  yells,  I  continuously 
spurred  my  horse  on ;  a  mist  seemed  to  cover 
my  eyes;  I  knew  not  what  I  was  doing,  but 
blindly  thrust,  parried  and  cut. 

A  face  loomed  up  before  me — a  pale,  des 
perate,  horror-stricken  one,  and  as  I  cut  at  it 
and  felt  something  warm  wet  my  hand  I  gave 
a  wild  yell  of  joy.  My  man  rolled  to  the 
ground  between  my  horse's  hoofs.  Forward  I 
went,  never  turning  my  head,  only  trying  to 
clear  my  way  and  to  avoid  being  surrounded 
by  the  Spanish  infantry. 

My  horse  and  myself  seemed  to  obey  the 
same  instinct  of  preservation.  How  long  I 
remained  in  that  scene  of  carnage  I  do  not 
know.  The  notion  of  time  was  lost  to  me. 

Panting,  with  parched  throats  and  haggard 
faces,  we  obeyed  the  call  of  "assembly;" 
again  the  fit  of  trembling  seized  me,  and  my 
teeth  chattered  so  that  I  could  hardly  answer 
to  the  roll-call.  I  was  completely  prostrated ; 
T  could  not  even  lift  my  arm,  and  felt  a  horri 
ble  thirst. 


18  IN   THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

Then  for  the  first  time  I  felt  a  severe  pain  in 
the  right  hip.  In  the  struggle  some  one  had 
hit  me.  When  and  how  it  happened  I  kmns 
not.  My  companions  crowded  around  and 
congratulated  me  on  my  baptism  of  fire.  Smil 
ing,  I  gave  them  my  hand,  stained  by  the 
blood  of  men  unknown  to  me,  whose  names  I 
will  never  learn.  All  would  have  seemed  a 
dream,  but  the  wounded  and  dead  who  sur 
rounded  us  convinced  me  that  it  was  a  reality 
— the  horrible  reality  of  war. 

All  during  that  day  I  felt  a  profound  sad 
ness.  I  wanted  to  meet  that  man — the  first 
who  had  wished  to  kill  me;  the  first  whom  I 
cut  from  my  path  with  my  machete — and 
to  offer  him  all  that  I  could  to  relieve  him. 
Little  by  little  I  forgot  him,  and  now  when  I 
wish  to  recollect  him  I  can  picture  in  my  mind 
only  his  two  eyes  full  of  hate,  round  and 
small,  like  those  of  a  bird  of  prey. 

The  day  had  been  won.  The  Spaniards, 
thoroughly  routed,  were  beating  a  hasty  re 
treat,  not  even  stopping  to  bury  their  dead 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  19 

Order  and  discipline  were  forgotten  in  their 
ranks ;  some  men  took  refuge  in  a  neighboring 
canefield,  from  whence,  Then  the  torch  was 
applied,  their  cries  of  anguish  could  be  heard; 
others  more  sensible  surrendered,  who  after 
being  disarmed  were  duly  set  at  liberty. 

At  one  end  of  the  field  stood  the  brave  old 
general,  around  him  grouped  his  staff;  in 
front  were  two  large  piles  of  captured  guns  and 
ammunition  boxes.  On  every  face  joy  was 
painted.  Nearly  four  hundred  Spaniards  lay 
dead  on  the  field,  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  Mausers  had  been  captured,  together  with 
three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  rounds  of 
ammunition.  Our  losses  had  been  compara 
tively  small;  but  a  cloud  marred  the  joy  of 
many. 

Major  Cepero  had  deserted.  Too  much  of  a 
coward  to  obey  the  general's  order,  he  had 
preferred  dishonor  and  disgrace,  and  in  the 
heat  of  the  action  had  turned  and  fled.  Then, 
and  then  alone,  was  it  that  we  learned  that  the 
glory  of  the  victory  was  due  to  Gomez. 


20  IN   THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

Cepero's  courage  had  failed  him,  Maceo's 
charge  was  stopped  by  a  series  of  wire  fences, 
and  to  General  Gomez,  with  one  hundred  and 
fifty  men,  was  due  the  glory  of  breaking  a 
Spanish  square  four  files  deep,  thus  snatching 
victory  from  where  defeat  alone  appeared. 

"Long  life  to  General  Gomez!"  was  the 
resounding  cry  of  all  during  that,  to  me,  ever 
memorable  day. 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 


II. 

INSURGENTS   AMBUSCADING   A   SPANISH   FORCE. 

I  HAVE  seen  many  brave  men  go  down  amid 
a  rain  of  bullets,  fighting  to  the  last.  I  have 
seen  them  go  into  places,  and  carry  out  orders, 
knowing  it  would  cost  them  their  lives,  and 
never  flinch  or  hesitate ;  but  of  all  these  the 
death  of  one  is  most  engraven  on  my  mind. 

One  of  our  young  comrades  was  Charles 
Hooker,  a  happy,  handsome  boy  of  nineteen. 
From  the  very  moment  his  name  was  entered 
on  the  roll  he  became  a  favorite  with  all,  from 
the  highest  officer  to  the  last  orderly. 

Tall  and  slim  of  stature,  his  brown  hair  was 
thick  and  curly,  and  his  eyes  were  black,  with 
such  an  innocent  look  in  them  that  you  could 
not  help  but  wonder  how  he  could  accustom 
himself  to  a  life  in  which  death  played  so 


22  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

strong  a  hand.  Good-natured,  with  always  a 
kind  word  of  encouragement,  he  yet  had  so 
firm  a  sense  of  duty  that  ever  'tody  looked  up 
to  him. 

He  had  already  seen  much  hard  service,  and 
at  the  time  I  write  of  wore  the  stars  of  a 
second  lieutenant,  emblems  which  he  had  won 
in  battle. 

Late  in  the  afternon  of  July  6th,  in  the  past 
year,  all  was  bustle  and  noise  in  the  camp. 
Bugle-calls  were  heard,  the  men  ran  hither  and 
thither,  and  the  cries  of  the  orderlies,  mingling 
with  the  loud  orders  of  the  officers,  had  thrown 
the  quiet  camp  into  a  state  of  uproar. 

"I  wonder  what  we  are  up  to  now?"  shouted 
Hooker,  as  he  tightened  the  girth  on  his  horse. 

"Don't  know;  I  guess  we  will  soon  find 
out.  Come  on  or  you'll  be  late  for  forma 
tion,"  I  answered,  springing  into  the  saddlo 
and  trotting  down  to  my  place  in  the  line. 

Horses  wrere  saddled,  straps  tightened,  and 
equipments  hastily  buckled  on.  The  lino  was 
soon  formed,  and  as  we  stood  at  attention  while 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  23 

Captain  Planas  was  inspecting  us  we  were  won 
dering  why  we  were  called  out  at  so  late  an 
hour;  for  it  was  live  o'clock,  and  all  of  us 
knew  that  at  that  time  no  danger  was  to  be 
feared  from  the  enemy. 

"Squadron!  Eight  by  fours!  Column 
right!  March!"  rang  out  in  rapid  succes 
sion,  and  we  slowly  walked  our  horses  out  of 
the  camp,  noticing,  as  we  did  so,  that  only  two 
squadrons  beside  our  own  were  leaving,  and 
that  all  the  "impedimenta,"  together  with  the 
rest  of  the  force,  remained  behind. 

"Pvout  order"  soon  followed,  and  the  buzz 
of  some  three  hundred  voices  filled  the  air. 

Hooker  and  I  had  just  commenced  our  din 
ner  when  the  bugle  sounded  "boots  and  sad 
dles,  "  and  now  as  we  rode  side  by  side  our  con 
versation  naturally  turned  to  that  all-important 
subject  in  a  soldier's  life — our  appetites  and 
empty  stomachs. 

I  lamented  the  fate  which  had  forced  us  to 
abandon  what  would  have  been  a  most  welcome 
meal,  and  attempted  to  impress  Hooker  with 


24  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

the  seriousness  of  the  situation  and  my  pre 
occupation  as  to  where  our  next  meal  was  to 
come  from. 

He  laughed  merrily  at  the  condition  of  my 
mind,  and  strove  to  infuse  me  with  some  of 
his  good  spirits.  But  I  was  not  to  be  consoled, 
and  continued  to  grumble. 

Slowly  we  rode  along,  and  as  hunger  is  not 
a  very  good  promoter  of  conversation,  it  soon 
lagged,  and  the  silence  was  only  broken  by  the 
tramp  of  the  horses'  hoofs  and  an  occasional 
remark  from  one  of  the  men. 

Disgust  at  the  prospect  of  spending  a  long, 
cold  night  without  a  fire,  joined  to  the  gnaw 
ing  of  an  empty  stomach,  had  succeeded  in 
throwing  me  into  a  wretched  humor,  and  as  I 
rolled  over  in  my  blanket,  and  answered  with 
a  grunt  Hooker's  cheerful  "Good-night"  I 
mentally  made  a  vow  to  make  some  one  pay 
for  my  feelings  on  the  morrow. 

Slowly  the  sentries  paced  up  and  down,  look 
ing  with  drowsy  eyes  on  their  sleeping  com 
rades.  Silence  reigned,  broken  only  now  and 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  25 

then  by  the  croak  of  a  bullfrog  in  some  distant 
pond  or  the  noise  of  the  leaves  in  the  tall  palm 
trees  as  the  wind  softly  rustled  them.  Large 
clouds  blew  up,  and  for  a  moment  covered  the 
moon.  Some  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall,  but 
still  the  tired  men  slept  on,  Captain  Planas 
alone  remaining  awake :  the  responsibility  of 
the  ambuscade  lay  on  his  shoulders,  and, 
young  in  command,  he  felt  too  anxious  to  rest. 

"Three  o'clock,"  he  muttered,  as  he  glanced 
at  his  watch.  "Sentry,  pass  the  word  to  wake 
the  men — and  no  one  is  to  talk, "  he  added, 
addressing  the  nearest  guard. 

"Now,  men,"  he  continued,  as  we  hastily 
sprang  to  our  feet,  "you  are  not  to  fire  until  I 
command,  no  matter  what  happens.  Fire  low 
and  true.  Remember  that  I  have  pledged  my 
word  to  capture  the  convoy,  and  I  know  that  I 
can  count  on  you  all.  Let  each  man  choose 
his  tree,  and  above  all,  no  noise,  and  await  the 
order;  then,  aim  well,  and  fire." 

Silently  the  men  took  their  places,  and  for  a 
moment  the  click  of  springs  could  be  heard  as 


•^6  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

we  examined  our  Winchesters ;  then,  once  more 
all  was  still. 

The  first  rays  of  dawn  were  lighting  up  the 
sky  when,  at  the  turn  of  the  road,  some  four 
hundred  yards  away,  a  solitary  horseman  came 
in  sight — the  advance  scout  of  the  convoy. 
Slowly  he  came  on,  looking  from  side  to  side, 
his  gun  shining  in  his  hand. 

How  handsome  and  soldierly  he  looked,  I 
thought,  as  his  horse  carefully  picked  its  way 
along  the  stony  road ;  at  that  moment  a  hun 
dred  rifles  were  probably  leveled  at  him,  await 
ing  but  the  word  and  a  touch  of  the  finger  to 
speed  their  messengers  of  death  on  their  May. 

Nearer  and  nearer  he  came;  behind  him 
could  be  seen  some  one  hundred  men — the  van 
guard.  Already  the  first  scout  was  abreast  of 
the  ambush.  Would  he  see  us?  If  so,  all 
was  lost.  We  heard  the  creaking  of  his  equip 
ments  as  he  almost  brushed  us  on  his  way  by. 
Now  the  main  body  was  in  sight ;  in  the  middle 
of  which  were  twenty  or  thirty  pack-mules— 
the  coveted  convov. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  2? 

I  glanced  at  Hooker  at  my  side.  His  patient 
manner  never  seemed  to  abandon  him ;  but  the 
color  that  came  and  went  on  his  fair  cheeks, 
together  with  a  hasty  look  which  now  and  then 
he  cast  at  our  captain,  told  me  that,  although 
he  could  control  his  feelings,  he  was  as  im 
patient  as  I  for  the  fight  to  begin.  All  knew 
that  the  moment  for  action  was  fast  approach 
ing. 

There  was  the  tramp,  tramp  of  the  troops 
as  with  a  steady  shuffle  on  they  came. 

My  blood  rushed  to  my  head,  a  choking  sen 
sation  seized  iny  throat.  I  held  my  breath 
lest  it  should  betray  us.  I  could  feel  every 
pulse  in  my  body  throb  as  crouched  behind  my 
tree  I  aimed  and  awaited  the  signal. 

Still  on  they  came.  Twenty  feet  away  was 
the  commanding  officer,  his  eyes  and  ears  on 
the  alert.  God!  would  the  order  ever  come? 

At  last!  "Fire!"  and  the  roar  of  three  hun 
dred  rifles  rent  the  air,  re-echoing  through  the 
woods  ;  the  shouts  of  the  officers  and  surprised 
men,  the  clatter  of  hoofs  and  the  sharp  notes 


28  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

of  the  bugle,  threw  the    peaceful    scene    of .  ,a 
moment  before  into  the  confusion  and  noise 
battle. 

At  the  first  volley,  ^aken  by  surprise,  the 
enemy  gave  way;  but  now  they  rallied  and  re 
turned  our  fire.  It  was  give  and  take,  and  I 
knew  we  were  in  for  a  hard,  stubborn  fight. 

A  square  was  formed  by  the  Spaniards,  in 
the  middle  of  which  were  placed  the  loaded 
mules.  As  fast  as  one  went  down  his  carcass 
was  dragged  to  the  front,  and  soon  a  formida 
ble  rampart  was  formed,  from  behind  which 
the  enemy  knelt  and  fired. 

The  order  had  been  given  by  Captain  Pla- 
nas,  and  we  had  closed  in,  surrounding  com 
pletely  the  square. 

Side  by  side  Hooker  and  I  fought,  and  as 
occasionally  I  caught  sight  of  him  through  the 
smoke  I  saw  him  firing,  his  hat  off,  his  long 
hair  blowing  in  the  wind,  and  his  cheeks  rosy 
with  the  excitement  of  battle. 

Frantically  the  surrounded  enemy  fought, 
and  the  air  resounded  with  the  crack  of  the 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  29 

'fle  and  the  whizz  of  the  bullet  as   it  sped  ou 

s  way. 

On  all  sides  men  went  down ;  some  lay  still, 
while  others  writhed  and  groaned  in  frightful 
agony,  calling  on  their  more  fortunate  com 
panions  to  end  their  misery ;  while  in  the 
midst  calmly  stood  Captain  Planas,  bending 
now  and  then  to  soothe  a  wounded  comrade, 
urging  and  encouraging  his  men,  unmindful  of 
his  own  safety. 

Cries  of  derision  and  defiance  came  from 
the  square,  answered  by  similar  ones  from  us. 

Suddenly  a  shout  went  up.  Over-confident, 
Captain  Planas  had  advanced  too  near ;  a  bul 
let  had  struck  him  in  the  breast,  and  he  fell, 
calling  on  us  to  avenge  him. 

Dismayed  at  our  loss,  we  hesitated,  and  be 
gan  to  yield;  a  panic  seemed  to  seize  us,  and 
death  of  which  we  had  not  thought  before, 
now  appeared  in  all  its  horror. 

The  Spaniards,  seeing  onr  condition,  took 
courage,  and  poured  their  deadly  volleys  into 
our  thoroughly  disheartened  ranks.  Defeat 


30  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

and  disgrace  stared  vis  in  tLeface;  the  battle 
seemed  lost.  But  it  was  willed  otherwise. 

An  American  boy  was  to  save  the  day. 
Grasping  Cuba's  torn  and  tattered  flag  of  vic 
tory  in  one  hand,  his  machete  in  the  other, 
Hooker  called  on  the  men  to  follow  him,  and 
looking  neither  to  right  nor  left,  he  dashed 
headlong  into  the  square.  The  men,  by  one 
common  impulse,  obeyed,  and  a  horrible 
scene  of  carnage  ensued,  the  roar  of  musketry 
giving  way  to  the  clash  of  steel. 

In  the  center  of  the  square  stood  the  Yankee 
boy,  the  blood  running  down  his  face  from  a 
cut  on  his  forehead,  his  eyes  shining  with  the 
light  of  a  brave  man,  who  fears  not  death,  but 
dishonor. 

In  his  hand  he  still  held  the  flag  for  which 
he  was  dying,  while  with  his  machete  he  kept 
at  bay  a  burly  Spaniard,  who  cut  and  slashed 
at  him.  All  around,  men  fought  and  fell;  the 
weakest  heart  grew  strong  and  the  hand  struck 
true  as  the  men  gazed  on  their  brave  young 
leader. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  31 

Like  wild  beasts  we  fought  and  killed,  well- 
nigh  exhausted  by  our  efforts,  and  desperate 
at  the  loss  of  our  captain. 

The  onslaught  was  too  strong  to  resist;  the 
enemy  broke  and  ran.  The  day  was  won. 

But  how  much  had  it  cost  us !  For  as  I 
looked  I  saw  Hooker  standing  for  a  moment 
amid  the  dead  and  dying,  a  ray  of  light,  as  it 
stole  through  the  smoke,  lighting  up  his  pale 
but  happy  face ;  slowly  he  sank  back,  the  flag 
pressed  to  his  bosom,  and  as  with  uncovered 
head  I  knelt  by  his  side,  he  smiled  and  passed 
away. 

That  night,  as  in  a  far-off  land,  a  mother's 
prayers  went  up  to  Heaven  for  her  son,  we 
sadly  laid  him  to  rest,  wrapped  in  the  flag  for 
which  he  had  braved  death  and  died. 


32  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 


III. 

THE    STORY   OF   GENERAL   JOSE   MACEO's   DEATH. 

UNDER  a  large  cedar  tree,  a  pile  of  stones, 
surmounted  by  a  plain  wooden  cross  with  the 
words,  "A  Hero:  Jose  Maceo, "  roughly 
carved,  are  all  that  mark  the  spot  where  lie  the 
remains  of  ouo  of  Cuba's  bravest  soldiers, 
awaiting  the  day  when  a  fitter  monument  shall 
be  erected  to  show  where  he  fell,  righting  for 
the  liberty  of  his  country. 

It  was  after  a  long  and  tiresome  march  that 
I  first  met  Major-General  Jose  Maceo.  We  had 
lauded  a  few  weeks  previously  in  Cuba,  and 
it  being  our  duty  to  report  to  him,  we  imme 
diately  set  out.  After  passing  through  many 
hardships,  we  finally  accomplished  our  object, 
joining  him  at  Coralillo,  a  spot  some  thirty 
miles  west  of  Guantauamo. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  33 

He  rode  out  at  the  bead  of  his  escort  to  greet 
us,  his  tall,  well-knit  body  swaying  in  perfect 
grace  with  every  motion  of  his  horse,  the  large 
brim  of  his  hat  pinned  back  and  held  in  place 
by  an  escarapela.  He  was  dressed  in  brown 
duck,  and  wore  large,  black  riding  boots,  his 
rifle  slung  across  his  shoulder  and  his  dreaded 
machete  strapped  to  his  side.  He  looked 
every  inch  the  warrior  that  he  was. 

After  addressing  us  a  few  words  of  welcome, 
we  were  assigned  to  a  place  in  his  camp;  and, 
asking  us  to  dinner,  he  rode  off,  followed  by 
his  staff. 

That  evening  at  six  o'clock,  accompanied  by 
a  friend,  I  went  to  his  hut.  After  dining,  and 
when  he  had  heard  our  own  experiences,  he 
then,  at  our  request,  related  to  us  the  follow 
ing  account,  by  which  one  can  well  judge  the 
character  and  iron  will  of  the  man : 

They  landed,  his  brother  Antonio,  Flor 
Crombert,  Cebreco,  Agramonte,  four  others 
and  himself,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in 
plain  view  of  the  garrison  which  occupied  the 


34  IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

forts  of  Baracoa.  Immediately  arming  tlierr.- 
selves,  and  always  in  sight  of  the  city,  they 
marched  up  a  small  hill  and  took  possession 
of  a  house,  to  await  the  attack  of  the  Span 
iards,  whose  force,  ten  times  their  own  in 
number,  could  by  this  time  be  seen  leaving 
the  city. 

As  soon  as  the  troops  reached  the  foot  of  the 
hill  they  were  met  by  a  well-directed  volley, 
which  was  kept  up  without  ceasing  until  the 
Spaniards  retreated,  abandoning  all  hope  of 
capturing  them  for  the  time  being.  After  this 
skirmish  the  party  continued  their  march. 

From  that  moment  there  commenced  for  the 
little  baud  a  most  desperate  and  rough  cam 
paign.  Knowing  that  they  were  pursued,  a 
halt  or  delay  of  any  kind  was  dangerous.  To 
be  captured  then  meant  a  prison-cell,  from 
whence,  after  a  mock  trial,  they  would  be 
dragged  out  and  shot  down  like  dogs ;  so  they 
trudged  along  as  well  as  circumstances  would 
allow. 

The  third  day  their  guide   deserted,  leaving 


/N  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  35 

them  lost  and  wandering  in  the  dense  forest. 
After  forty -eight  hours  of  uncertain  and  try 
ing  marches,  a  small  hut  was  reached,  where, 
unfortunately,  it  was  decided  to  rest.  A  few 
hours  later  the  Spaniards  came  up  and  com 
pletely  surrounded  them,  opening  fire  from  all 
sides  of  the  camp. 

A  desperate  hand-to-hand  fight  ensued,  in 
which  Flor  Crombert  was  killed,  together  with 
two  others;  Agramonte  was  taken  prisoner, 
and  Jose  Maceo  barely  managed  to  cut  his  way 
through  and  escape  uninjured. 

In  the  skirmish  the  little  party  had  all  been 
separated,  and  Maceo  now  found  himself  alone 
without  food  or  drink.  He  was  weary  with 
his  long  tramp,  his  clothes  were  in  threads, 
his  torn  and  bleeding  feet  covered  with  rags, 
and  he  did  not  know  in  which  direction  to 
turn,  encircled  as  he  was  by  enemies. 

Yet,  not  for  one  moment  did  his  pluck  and 
grit  abandon  him.  To  have  heard,  as  I  did, 
from  his  own  lips  the  story  of  his  wanderings 
and  sufferings  during  thirteen  days,  told  iu 


36  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH   GOMEZ. 

bis  quiet,  simple  way,  without  a  word  of 
bravado  or  boast,  one  could  not  but  admire  the 
man  who,  after  having  fought  ten  years,  was 
still  ready  to  go  through  all  these  hardships 
once  more. 

During  those  long  days  he  suffered  horribly 
from  hunger  and  thirst,  living  on  sour  oranges 
and  such  berries  as  he  found  in  his  path,  until 
at  last,  well-nigh  dead,  he  fell  in  with  the 
forces  of  General  Perquito  Perez. 

General  Maceo  was  a  man  of  quick  temper, 
and  acted  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  but  when 
he  found  he  had  committed  a  mistake  no  one 
was  more  prompt  than  he  to  apologize  and 
atone  for  it,  were  it  to  his  humblest  soldier. 

He  stammered  somewhat,  especially  when  he 
was  angry ;  then  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
understand  him.  In  battle  he  would  cross  his 
leg  over  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  and  wait 
patiently  for  an  opportunity  to  use  his  Win 
chester;  he  was  a  wonderful  shot,  and  God 
help  the  unfortunate  Spaniard  at  whom  he 
would  airn ! 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  37 

He  was  constantly  being  wounded.  At  the 
time  I  met  him  he  already  wore  seventeen 
scars;  nevertheless,  he  was  always  the  first  in 
a  charge  and  the  last  in  a  retreat. 

The  following  account  of  General  Jose 
Maceo's  death  I  have  from  a  brother  officer 
who  was  present  at  the  time : 

"At  four  A.  M.,  on  July  5,  1896,  the  bugle 
sounded  'reveille,'  and  I  awoke  to  be  informed 
by  my  orderly  that  we  were  preparing  to  go 
into  action,  and  that  the  troops,  some  two 
thousand  strong,  were  advancing  on  us. 

"Hardly  had  I  mounted  when  a  messenger 
rode  up,  ordering  me  to  join  the  general's  staff 
and  serve  as  aid  to  him.  This  I  did,  never 
leaving  his  side  until  he  dropped  from  his 
horse. 

"We  were  camped  at  the  foot  of  Lorna  del 
Gato  (Cat  Hill),  by  which  the  large  highway 
passed;  on  our  left  lay  a  small  field,  dotted 
here  and  there  with  palm  trees,  while  to  the 
right  was  a  large  and  dense  forest. 

"The  Spaniards  were  approaching  from  the 


38  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

north ;  so,  placing  the  cavalry  back  of  the  hill 
for  protection,  and  deploying  some  eight  hun 
dred  men  across  the  road  and  field,  we  patiently 
awaited  the  enemy's  pleasure. 

"The  moments  stole  by  and  silence  reigned. 
A  shot  from  the  outposts,  another  and  another ; 
Maceo's  last  fight  had  commenced. 

"The  enemy  came  on  quickly,  and  the  firing 
began  all  down  the  line.  They  opened  on  us 
with  two  field-pieces ;  their  shells,  however, 
went  wild  and  did  but  little  damage. 

"Already  our  men  were  dropping;  the 
wounded  were  being  carried  to  the  rear ,  bul 
lets  whistled,  shells  shrieked  and  the  cries  of 
the  wounded  filled  the  air.  A  young  lieuten 
ant  was  shot  near  the  general,  who  never 
moved. 

"Suddenly  we  broke;  Maceo  saw  it,  and 
putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  galloped  down 
the  line,  followed  by  his  staff,  to  rally  and 
encourage  the  men.  A  bullet  hit  Maceo's 
charger,  which,  with  its  rider,  rolled  over  in 
the  dust.  The  general  was  up  in  a  second, 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  39 

mounting  Lieutenant-Colonel  Bonne's  horse, 
which  a  few  moments  later  was  shot  through 
the  ear,  the  bullet  just  grazing  Maceo's  hand. 

"The  Spaniards  were  fighting  furiously. 
The  only  thing  to  keep  them  back  was  a 
charge,  and  when  we  slowly  trotted  back  of 
the  hill  to  join  the  cavalry  each  one  of  us  knew 
that  the  supreme  moment  had  arrived. 

"In  a  low  voice  the  general  gave  his  com 
mands,  and  as  we  dashed  around  the  hill  he 
rode  well  in  front,  his  long,  heavy  machete 
shining  in  the  air.  The  enemj7  saw  us  coming, 
and  hurriedly  formed  their  squares. 

"On — on,  faster  and  faster  we  rode.  A 
volley  from  the  square,  answered  by  cries  of 
' Al  machete!  Al  machete /'  Men  dropped 
from  their  saddles  and  riderless  horses  dashed 
by ;  twenty  yards  more  and  we  would  be  on 
them. 

"Another  volley,  and  the  general  reeled  in 
his  saddle,  straightened  up  and  then  pitched 
headlong  to  the  ground,  shot  through  the  head. 

"Tenderly  they  picked  him  up  and  carried 


40  IN    THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

him  back  of  the  lines.  An  hour  later  I  rode 
up  and  found  him  lying  on  the  ground,  sur 
rounded  by  his  officers,  unconscious,  and 
slowly  dying. 

"At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  the 
last  shots  of  the  retiring  enemy  could  bo  heard 
in  the  distance,  Maceo  slowly  turned  his  head 
and  muttered : 

"  '  Al  machete  !     Al  machete  !'  ' ' 

Thus  did  Major-General  Jose  Maceo  die,  the 
hero  of  La  Indiana,  La  Galleta,  El  Jobito, 
Piuar  Kedondo,  Majaguabo,  San  Luis,  Dos 
Caminos,  Sao  del  Indio,  El  Triunfo,  Canto 
Abajo,  Mayare,  Arroyo  Hondo,  Sagua,  Songo 
and  a  dozen  other  battles,  and  last  of  all, 
Lorna  del  Gato,  where,  like  a  truo  soldier,  he 
fell,  as  eleven  of  his  brothers  had  done  before, 
fighting  the  Spaniards,  dying  cheerfully  for 
that  cause  which  he  had  always  so  nobly 
defended. 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  41 


IV. 

HOW  I   ONCE   WORE   THE   SPAM  H   UNIFORM. 

IT  was  a  risky  task,  and  the  chances  were 
one  in  a  hundred  of  making  a  success  of  it ; 
but  nobody  stopped  to  think  of  that,  for  the 
game  was  well  worth  the  candle,  and  there  was 
enough  excitement  to  satisfy  the  most  adven 
turous  and  daring  spirit  among  us. 

The  following  were  Major  Leoncio  V;dal's 
plans:  We  were  to  ride  down  to  the  Cama- 
juani  Railroad,  block  the  morning  train  with 
its  carload  of  guardia-civiles,  compel  them  to 
surrender,  dress  ourselves  in  their  uniforms, 
enter  the  town  on  the  train,  disguised  in  that 
manner,  burn  it,  and  then  beat  a  retreat. 

All  this  was  to  take  place  in  broad  daylight, 
with  only  thirty  men  at  our  disposal,  and  on 


42  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

the  sixteenth  da}'  of  March,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  eighteen  hundred  and  ninety -six. 

Fun  enough,  we  all  thought,  and  that  night, 
as  we  sat  around  our  campfires,  the  woods 
resounded  with  the  voices  of  our  little  band, 
all  laughing  merrily  at  the  joke  we  were  about 
to  play  on  our  friends  the  gringos. 

The  following  morning,  at  the  first  note  of 
"reveille, "  the  men  sprang  to  their  feet,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  we  were  all  ready,  every  one 
eager  for  the  coming  lark. 

In  a  short  while  we  were  en  route  for  the 
appointed  spot,  Major  Yidal  and  I  making  our 
number  a  round  thirty ;  but  no  one  thought  of 
our  strength,  feeling  sure  of  victory. 

Major  Vidal  and  his  band  may  well  be  com 
pared  with  Marion  and  his  men.  He  was 
greatly  feared  by  our  foes,  being  a  great  guer 
rilla  fighter,  and  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  wore 
the  rebel  cockade.  He  would  strike  a  blow 
and  be  miles  away,  laughing  over  its  success, 
almost  before  the  drowsy  Spaniards  awoke  to 
the  fact  that  he  had  been  in  their  midst. 


IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  4-'3 

Before  the  war  be  was  a  resident  of  Cama- 
juani,  a  town  noted  for  its  loyalty  to  Spain, 
and  he  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  reminding 
them  of  that  fact,  keeping  the  inhabitants  in  a 
constant  state  of  terror  by  frequently  dashing 
into  the  town  or  firing  on  the  forts —  "keeping 
up  his  circle  of  acquaintances,  "  as  he  called  it. 

Poor  fellow !  soon  after  the  little  incident 
which  I  shall  attempt  to  relate  he  lost  his  life 
while  entering  the  town  of  Santa  Clara. 
When  the  news  of  his  death  reached  Cainajuani 
the  joy  of  the  people  knew  no  bounds.  The 
town  was  decorated  with  the  hated  flag ;  a  ball 
was  given,  the  opening  feature  of  which  was  a 
torchlight  parade ;  at  the  head  was  carried  a 
dummy  labeled  "Leoneio  Yidal, "  and  men 
whom  he  once  honored  by  calling  them  his 
friends  marched  behind  it. 

But  that  is  another  story,  and  I  am  forget 
ting  myself.  The  men  looked  fighters,  every 
inch  of  them,  dressed  in  their  rough  duck 
suits  (somewhat  the  Avorse  for  wear,  and  not 
over-clean),  and  with  their  broad  pauama  hats 


44  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH   GOMEZ. 

thrown  back  off  the  forehead;  even  the  horses 
— faithful  little  friends — man}-  of  which  bore 
the  scars  of  former  escapades,  looked  particu 
larly  "scrappy"  as  they  rattled  their  bits, 
wondering  where  we  were  going  and  impatient 
to  arrive. 

It  was  one  of  those  mornings  which  can 
never  be  forgotten.  Overhead  was  the  beauti 
ful  clear  blue  sky  of  the  tropics,  the  air  was 
cool  and  full  of  the  perfume  of  wild  flowers, 
and  the  birds  chirped  merrily  to  one  another 
from  the  branches  above,  as  moved  by  the 
wind  they  swayed  to  and  fro — a  morning  which 
makes  one's  thoughts  fly  back  to  home  and 
peace,  and  causes  a  sigh  to  escape  from  the 
lips  as  one  awakes  to  the  sterner  reality  of  war 
and  death. 

Vidal  and  I  rode  next  to  each  other  at  the 
head  of  our  men,  he  giving  me  his  orders  for 
the  day's  work. 

"What's  that  tin  can  doing  there  strapped 
to  your  saddle?"  I  asked,  noticing  a  long 
cylindrical  affair  hanging  by  the  side  of  his  leg. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH -GOMEZ.  45 

"That,"  lie  answered,  with  a  broad  grin, 
"is  a  secret.  You  will  learn  its  use  soon 
enough." 

A  short  while  afterward  we  arrived  at  the 
track;  the  troop  dismounted,  tied  their  horses 
to  trees  and  formed,  awaiting  orders. 

I  looked  at  my  watch ;  half-past  five.  Our 
train  was  not  due  before  eleven  o'clock,  so  we 
had  plenty  of  time  in  which  to  do  the  work 
carefully. 

Yidal  had  chosen  a  spot  which  if  made  to 
order  would  not  have  suited  our  purpose  bet 
ter.  On  one  side  of  the  railroad  rose  a  tall 
embankment,  while  on.  the  other  the  earth  lay 
smooth  and  bare  as  a  billiard-ball.  Fifty 
yards  further  up,  the  track  curved  sharply 
around  a  wood,  which  would  screen  us  from 
view  until  it  was  too  late  for  the  engineer  to 
avoid  the  trap.  Away  in  tlio  distance  loomed 
the  church  steeple  of  Camajuani,  from  the 
cross  of  which  floated  Spain's  flag. 

Sentinels  were  posted  some  distance  apart 
on  both  sides  of  the  railroad,  and  the  men 


46  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMKZ. 

rapidly  set  to  work  loosening  uails  arid  Leap 
ing  obstructions  upon  the  track. 

Let  me  describe  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader 
what  an  armored  Spanish  train  means. 

A  few  months  previous  to  the  time  of  which 
I  write  General  Gomez  had  issued  a  proclama 
tion  stating  that  he  forbade  traffic  of  any  kind 
upon  the  railroad,  and  that  fifteen  days  after 
date  disobedience  of  orders  would  be  at  the 
risk  of  life. 

The  Spanish  government  pooh-poohed  the 
idea,  but  saw  fit,  however,  to  take  their  pre 
cautions,  which  they  did  in  the  following  man 
ner.  An  accident,  such  as  being  blown  up  by 
a  dynamite  bomb,  could  not,  of  course,  be 
avoided,  and  they  decided  to  fortify  the  trains 
so  as  to  make  their  capture  a  thing  almost  im 
possible — by  placing  behind  the  engine  a  car 
full  of  .soldiers,  thoroughly  equipped  to  do 
battle  with  a  regiment. 

The  four  sides  of  the  car  were  covered  with 
steel  plates  punctured  by  diamond  shaped  loop 
holes,  but,  in  their  sagacity,  or  may  be  not 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  4? 

deeming  it  necessary,  the  Spaniards  forgot  to 
cover  the  roof  in  a  like  manner. 

This  was  their  only  vulnerable  point,  but 
one  of  which  we  meant  to  take  advantage,  the 
blockade  being  so  placed  as  to  bring  the  pro 
tected  car  directly  underneath  the  embankment 
from  which  we  intended  to  fire. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  work  was  finished,  and 
the  order  was  given  to  prepare  breakfast. 

Now  a  morning's  ride  and  labor  like  that 
which  we  had  done  would  sharpen  the  appetite 
of  any  man,  and  I  felt  in  a  condition  to  do 
honor  to  the  most  doubtful  morsel.  Presently 
my  orderly,  Andre,  stood  before  me  with  a 
can  of  condensed  milk  in  one  hand,  while  in 
the  other  he  held  a  couple  of  much-charred 
and  veteran-like  sweet  potatoes. 

I  sat  up  and  proceeded  to  make  the  most  of 
my  meal.  It  may  be  said  I  did  justice  to  it, 
and  in  a  short  while  nothing  remained  to  tell 
the  tale  but  an  empty  tin  can  and  the  burned 
skin  of  roasted  potatoes. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  walked  over  and  joined 


48  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

Vidal,  who  still  lingered  over  Iris  frugal 
meal. 

"We  ought  to  make  a  success  of  this  job," 
he  said,  looking  with  a  suspicious  eye  upon  a 
"shady"  morsel;  "those  beggars  will  not  see 
the  block  until  it  is  too  late  to  stop." 

"But,"  I  exclaimed,  accepting  and  lighting 
a  cigarette,  "suppose  they  run  their  engine 
into  that  block ;  it  will  jump  the  track,  and 
then  we  will  not  be  able  to  enter  Camajuaui  as 
you  intend." 

"Why,  that  stuff  would  never  cause  the 
engine  to  jump  the  rail.  Of  course,  the  driver 
will  see  it  the  minute  he  comes  around  the 
curve,  and  he  will  reverse  the  engine.  The 
obstacle  will  only  serve  to  bring  the  train  to  a 
complete  stop.  What  we  must  do  is  to  fire  as 
accurately  as  possible  through  the  roof  and 
blow  the  scoundrels  out  of  the  c;ir  if  they  don't 
surrender.  The  rest  is  mere  child's-play." 

I  didn't  quite  see  where  the  "child's-play" 
came  in,  but  of  course  I  refrained  horn  saying 
so. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  49 

"That  train  is  due  in  twenty  minutes,"  he 
added,  glancing  at  his  watch,  "so  you  had 
better  call  in  the  sentinels  and  post  the  men." 

I  turned  to  obey  his  orders,  noticing  as  I 
did  so  that  he  took  a  long  fuse  out  of  his 
pocket,  and  I  wondered  where  he  had  obtained 
the  dynamite,  and  why  he  had  not  mentioned 
its  acquisition  to  me. 

The  work  had  been  well  done.  Enough  rub 
bish  was  piled  on  the  track  to  hinder  the  pro 
gress  of  the  engine  without  causing  a  derail 
ment,  while  further  back  several  nails  were 
loosened,  to  enable  us  to  remove  a  rail  after 
the  train  had  passed,  and  in  that  manner  pre 
vent  it  from  shunting  out  of  the  trap. 

The  sentries  were  soon  collected,  each  man 
allotted  his  position,  ordered  to  lie  flat  on  the 
ground,  and  when  the  signal  to  fire  was  given 
to  blaze  away  at  the  top  of  the  car. 

By  this  time  "Old  Sol"  was  getting  almost 
unendurable,  the  back  of  my  neck  feeling  any 
thing  but  pleasant,  and  I  mentally  blessed  the 
tradition  which  makes  all  trains  late  as  the 


50  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

hands  of  my  watch  marked  eleven  and  no  signs 
of  the  train  could  be  seen. 

An  odd  sight  we  made,  thus  stretched  out  on 
the  ground,  with  our  heads  and  gun-barrels 
just  showing  over  the  edge  of  the  bank — a 
picture  appreciated  by  a  dozen  or  more  crows, 
who  cawed  indignantly  at  us  from  the  foliage 
of  neighboring  trees. 

Suddenly  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive 
sounded  in  the  distance,  and  we  knew  that  the 
train  would  soon  be  along.  Laughter  and 
jests  ceased  as  if  by  magic — death  was  in  the 
air. 

Now  the  roar  of  the  wheels  could  be  heard 
tearing  along ;  another  second,  and  around  the 
curve  swung  the  engine.  In  an  instant  the 
driver  saw  his  peril,  reversed  the  engine  and 
whistled  "down  brakes;"  too  late,  however,  to 
avoid  dashing  halfway  through  the  heap, 
where  the  engine  stuck  and  the  train  came  to 
a  stop,  with  the  armored  car  directly  beneath 
us. 

"Diablo  I    what's   the   matter?"  shouted 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  51 

voice  from  the  rear  door,  followed  by  a  head 
imprudently  stuck  through  the  opening.  The 
questioner  never  found  out,  for  a  well-aimed 
ballet  united  him  with  the  "Great  Army 
Above, ' '  and  his  comrades  dragged  his  body 
back  into  the  car.  That  shot  had  been  the 
signal,  and  the  men  poured  their  fire  through 
the  roof  of  the  car,  to  the  disgust  and  rage  of 
the  Spaniards,  who  now  found  the  tables 
turned,  being  shot  down  without  seeing  or  fir 
ing  upon  their  assailants. 

Never  had  I  felt  so  queer  under  fire.  Here 
we  were  pumping  lead  into  a  pack  of  howling, 
panic-stricken  gringos,  while  we  ran  compara 
tively  no  clanger.  Never  had  that  happened 
before ;  we  determined  to  make  the  most  of 
our  opportunity. 

One  of  our  men,  carried  away  by  the  ludi 
crous  situation,  jumped  down  on  the  car,  and 
in  a  second  lay  prone  upon  his  face,  pierced 
by  innumerable  bullets.  He  paid  dearly  for 
his  foolhardiness,  for  we  afterward  counted 
thirty-seven  wounds  on  his  body. 


52  IN    THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

A  few  moments  later  the  man  by  my  side 
was  wounded,  and  after  placing  him  in  a  safe 
position  I  returned  to  my  post. 

Hardly  had  I  done  so  when  I  noticed  Vidal 
making  for  the  top  of  the  bank  with  the  tin 
cylinder  in  his  hand,  leaving  in  his  wake  a 
thin  streak  of  smoke,  caused  by  the  fuse  which 
he  had  lighted. 

"This  is  adding  insult  to  injury,"  I 
thought,  as  I  watched  him  crawl  down  the  em 
bankment  ;  but  I  consoled  myself  with  the  idea 
that  they  would  have  done  the  same  to  us,  and 
I  proceeded  to  watch  the  major. 

On  reaching  the  track  he  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  handkerchief,  and  holding  it  above 
his  head,  shouted : 

"Hey!  you  men  there,  stop  your  firing!  I 
wish  to  negotiate  a  small  loan  (his  very  words) 
which  will  not  inconvenience  you  in  the  least." 

I  repeated  the  same  order  to  our  men,  who 
ceased  firing,  and  were  now  watching  their 
leader.  A  strange  sight,  to  be  sure,  as  he 
stood  there,  armed  from  head  to  foot,  holding 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  53 

in  one  hand  the  flag  of  truce,  while  in  the 
other  he  carried  the  bomb,  with  its  spluttering 
and  sizzling  fuse. 

Out  of  the  car  door  came  a  pale,  horror- 
stricken  face;  with  eyes  that  blinked  inces 
santly  as  they  peered  through  the  smoke;  a 
little  red  line  down  his  chest  showed  where  he 
had  been  hit;  and  I  pitied  him,  as  I  watched 
him  stand  there,  waiting  for  Vidal  to  speak. 

"Now,  look  here,"  said  Leoncio,  in  his 
commanding  manner;  "you  are  all  in  a  pretty 
bad  stew  in  there  (here  the  man  worked  his 
mouth  around  into  a  smile  which  was  posi 
tively  painful  to  behold),  and  I  feel  for  you 
all.  So,  after  consulting  with  my  captain 
(pointing  at  me,  which  gesture  I  acknowledged 
by  saluting  the  officer,  who  returned  it  in  a 
very  dignified  manner),  I  have  determined, 
provided  you  surrender,  to  free  you  all,  upon 
the  folloAviug  conditions : 

"First,  that  you  pass  out  all  your  guns  and 
equipments;  second,  that  you  exchange  your 


54  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

uniforms  for  ours,  and  third,  that  you  take  up 
the  positions  which  we  now  hold." 

"And  if  we  refuse,  seiior,  what  will  hap 
pen?"  replied  the  lieutenant,  for  such  he  was. 

"Why,  my  dear  fellow,  you  will  not  be  in  a 
condition  to  regret  it  fifteen  minutes  later, " 
answered  "Vidal,  as  he  placed  the  bomb  directly 
underneath  the  car. 

"Par  Dios  !  put  that  thing  out, "  cried  the 
Spaniard.  "I  will  agree  to  your  terms.  It 
means  dishonor  and  death  to  me,  but  I  will  do 
it  for  the  sake  of  my  men. ' ' 

"It  is  a  soldier's  duty  to  die,"  replied 
Vidal  sarcastically.  "Hurry  up  about  it," 
he  continued,  "for  that  match  won't  last  all 
day." 

And  quick  work  they  made  of  it,  for  in  ten 
minutes  we  stood  dressed  in  the  Spanish  uni 
forms  and  a  pile  of  arms  lay  on  the  ground. 

By  this  time  some  one  had  hauled  the  engi 
neer  and  fireman  from  beneath  the  car  and 
ordered  them  to  start  the  train.  Placing  our 
prisoners  on  the  embankment,  we  tipped  our 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  55 

hats,  and  with  farewell  words  of  consolation 
and  advice  to  them,  we  started  on  our  way  to 
Camajuani,  happy  at  the  success  of  our  ven 
ture. 

But  we  shouted  too  soon,  for  hardly  had  we 
gone  a  mile  wrhen  we  saw  corning  toward  the 
track  a  large  body  of  infantry  and  cavalry,  and 
we  knew  that  the  game  was  up. 

For  a  moment  Yidal  thought  of  attempting 
to  pass  as  friends,  but  the  risk  was  too  great, 
the  enemy  outnumbering  us  by  ten  to  one,  so 
accordingly  the  train  was  stopped  and  the 
order  to  retreat  given. 

The  Spaniards  saw  us,  and  in  another 
moment  the  bullets  commenced  to  drop 
about  us.  It  is  hard  enough  work  for  a 
cavalryman  to  run,  especially  loaded  down 
with  the  accoutrements  of  two  men,  as  the 
majority  of  us  were.  I  mourned  the  absence 
of  my  little  horse,  and  as  I  jumped  fences  and 
cleared  ditches  I  wondered  if  Andre  had  had 
sense  enough  to  place  him  in  a  safe  spot. 

Fortunately,  the  enemy  did  not  pursue  us, 


56  IN   THE   SADDLF.   WITH    GOMEZ. 

and  after  a  mile  or  so  wo  all  brought  up  breath 
less  in  a  sheltering  wood. 

We  Lad  lost  two  men  and  had  three 
wounded:  small  pay  for  such  a  rich  capture  of 
arms  and  ammunition  as  we  had  made. 

"Where  is  that  can?"  shouted  Tidal,  after 
he  had  recovered  enough  breath  to  be  able  to 
speak. 

No  one  replied. 

"Confound  it  all!"  he  continued,  "that 
thing  held  my  only  pair  of  extra  trousers  ;  and 
here  I  am,  dressed  in  this  uniform,  with  the 
bright  prospect  of  going  through  all  the  war 
in  it." 


IN  THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 


V. 

A  EACE  FOE  LIFE. 

THE  sun  had  just  reached  the  zenith  when, 
tired  and  hungry,  we  arrived  at  La  Estrella, 
and  after  having  inarched  for  twenty-eight 
hours, nrver  halting  except  to  water  our  horses 
or  bury  our  dead,  the  order  to  camp  was  given. 

We  i  ere  on  our  way  to  General  Gomez, 
bearing  dispatches,  and  had  reached  what  was 
known  as  "the  enemy's  land." 

The  day  before,  our  little  force,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  strong,  had  been  greatly  crippled  by 
an  encounter  with  a  superior  force  of  the 
enemy,  in  which  we  suffered  in  killed  and 
wounded  a  loss  of  twenty-eight  men,  and  it 
was  with  many  misgivings  as  to  our  safety 
that  we  came  to  a  halt  and  encamped  in  this  the 
most  dangerous  part  of  the  province. 

Many  years  ago  a  wealthy  man  built  a  plan- 


58  Itf  THE  SADDLE  WITH  GOMEZ. 

tation  on  this  spot  arid  called  it  La  Estrella 
(The  Star).  War  arid  fire  bad  since  laid  its 
walls  low,  and  in  the  distance  now  stood  the 
charred  remnants  of  what  was  once  a  happy 
home.  Bare  fields,  encircled  by  wire  fences, 
still  remained  to  mark  the  former  cane  planta 
tion.  Some  three  miles  and  a  half  away  was 
a  small  wood,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  a 
prefecto's  house,  where  a  short  while  ago  we 
had  left  our  wounded. 

Fifty  yards  beyond  our  sentries  ran  the 
Hanabana  Kiver,  the  boundary  line  of  the 
Matanzas  and  Las  Yillas  provinces. 

Colonel  E.  Fonts,  a  man  held  in  high  esteem 
by  General  Gomez  for  his  bravery  and  deport 
ment,  was  in  command,  Captain  J.  Perez  de 
Alderete  and  I  acting  as  his  aids.  Three  days 
before,  we  had  received  our  dispatches  from 
General  Zayas,  with  orders  to  march  day  and 
night  if  necessary,  but  to  deliver  them  before 
General  Gomez  crossed  into  the  province  of 
Havana. 

Colonel  Fonts  is  a  young  man,  twenty-seven 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  59 

years  of  age,  and  comes  from  one  of  the  oldest 
and  best  families  in  the  island.  He  had  many 
times  distinguished  himself  for  bravery,  and 
once,  after  a  severe  action,  Gomez  had  taken 
his  hand  and  presented  him  to  the  forces  as 
"the  man  who  honored  the  cause  and  flag  for 
which  he  fought." 

The  guards  had  been  posted,  and  as  a  pre 
caution  doubled,  the  rest  of  the  force  camping 
together  in  the  middle  of  the  field,  where  the 
tottering  remains  of  a  large  hut  yet  stood  and 
formed  a  welcome  shade  from  the  blistering 
rays  of  the  sun. 

Tired  as  we  were,  we  forgot  our  danger,  and 
ordering  our  horses  to  be  tethered,  we  threw 
ourselves  on  the  ground  to  rest  and  sleep. 

There  is  nothing  that  disheartens  a  troop  so 
much  as  defeat,  and  our  losses  of  the  day  had 
caused  that  action  to  be  numbered  as  such. 

The  men  were  gloomy  and  low-spirited — a 
most  dangerous  condition  to  be  in  for  soldiers 
who  are  sure  to  meet  the  enemy.  I  could  hear 
them,  as  I  tried  in  vain  to  sleep,  talking  of 


60  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

our  last  action  invoices  that  still  betrayed  their 
terror,  and  I  hoped  that  for  that  day,  at  least, 
we  would  not  stumble  across  the  Spanish 
forces. 

The  colonel  and  Alderete  were  soon  asleep, 
and  I  was  in  a  fair  way  to  join  them,  when 
the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs  on  the  hard 
ground  caused  me  to  sit  up. 

"What  is  it,  Jose?"  asked  the  colonel, 
awakened  by  the  noise. 

"A  squad  of  about  twenty  men  is  coming 
down  the  road  from  La  Estrella,  sir,"  an 
swered  the  orderly. 

In  a  moment  the  men  were  on  their  feet, 
nervously  fingering  their  rifles  as  they  glanced 
fro£a  side  to  side,  their  blanched  faces  and 
dilated  pupils  betraying  too  well  their  fears. 

"Did  you  recognize  the  force?"  demanded 
Colonel  Fonts. 

"No,  sir;  they  were  too  far  away,"  replied 
Jose. 

"Very  well,"  answered  the  colonel;  "tell 
Lieutenant  Garrido  to  take  five  men  and  recou- 


IX   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  61 

noiter  the  force, ' '  he  added,  turning  to  Captain 
Alderete,  who  saluted,  mounted,  and  rode  off 
to  fulfill  the  order. 

It  was  plain  to  me  that  Fonts  was  aware  of 
the  condition  of  his  men,  and  as  he  gave  the 
order  to  sound  "Boots  and  Saddles"  I  won 
dered  if  he  was  going  to  risk  an  encounter. 

"I  have  delivered  your  order,  sir,"  said 
Captain  Alderete,  as  he  reined  in  his  panting 
horse.  "Lieutenant  Garrido  has  left  the 
camp ;  Sergeant  Zarnova  is  in  charge  of  the 
guard. ' ' 

' '  Stand  at  ease, ' '  ordered  the  colonel,  to  the 
men,  who  had  formed  at  attention. 

As  I  glanced  around  I  noticed  the  three 
guards  rapidly  mounting  and  forming.  Not  a 
moment  was  to  be  lost.  Even  the  laziest  man 
stepped  lively  as  he  remembered  in  whose  ter 
ritory  we  were. 

I  mounted  my  horse,  and  as  we  stood  there 
large  black  clouds  appeared,  the  wind  fresh 
ened,  and  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall.  At  that 
moment  we  heard  the  clear  challenge  of  one  of 


62  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

the  skirmishers — the  challenge  which  was  to 
be  the  death-knell  for  many  of  our  men  on 
that  unlucky  day. 

" Alto!  Quienva?" 

"Uspana!"  came  the  reply,  followed  by  the 
sharp  report  of  a  rifle,  and  a  bullet  whizzed 
through  the  air.  Another  and  another.  Fate 
had  willed  it,  and  we  had  met  the  enemy. 

"Steady  there — steady!"  shouted  the  col 
onel  to  the  men,  who,  without  receiving  the 
order,  had  commenced  loading.  "Tell  Lieu 
tenant  Garrido, "  he  ordered,  turning  to  me, 
"to  retreat  into  camp,  so  that  the  enemy  will 
follow  him ;  send  twenty  men  to  reinforce  Ser 
geant  Zarnova  and  recall  the  other  guards, 
Captain  Alderete. ' ' 

After  the  first  five  or  six  shots  the  firing  had 
ceased,  and  as  I  galloped  across  the  field  I 
wondered  what  had  happened. 

The  guard  \v as  deployed  in  skirmishing  line, 
Sergeant  Zarnova  standing  at  their  right. 

"They  are  only  fifteen,  sir,"  he  said,  salut 
ing,  "Lieutenact  G&rrido  is  out  there  trying 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  63 

to  draw  them  on;  but  they  don't  seem  in  any 
great  hurry.  " 

I  continued  on  my  way,  and  after  crossing 
the  river  saw  Garrido.  He  and  his  men  had 
halted  a  short  distance  up  the  road,  about 
seventy-five  yards  from  a  small  group  of  men, 
who  seemed  undecided  what  to  do. 

"It's  a  small  guerrilla  force,"  said  the  lieu 
tenant,  "and  they  are  afraid  to  advance." 

"Ketreat, "  I  ordered,  "and  they  will  follow 
you." 

But  there  was  no  need  of  this  order,  for  the 
enemy  had  massed  and  was  now  approaching, 
breaking  into  a  gallop  as  they  neared  us.  In 
an  instant  we  turned,  and  at  full  speed  made 
for  the  camp,  while  they  followed  us. 

Suddenly  our  entire  force  appeared,  coming 
down  the  road  like  a  lot  of  raving  maniacs, 
yelling,  and  brandishing  their  machetes,  with 
Fonts  well  in  the  lead,  eager  to  avenge  the  loss 
of  the  previous  day. 

Down  the  road  they  raced.  Encircled  in  a 
cloud  of  dust,  hats  off,  machetes  gleaming  IP 


C4  IN  tM£  SADDLft  \VITH  GOMEZ. 

the  air,  the  reins  flapping  on  the  horses'  necks 
yelling  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  each  one 
striving  to  pass  the  other,  while  prudence  was 
thrown  to  the  winds. 

"Be  careful  of  an  ambush,  colonel!" 
shouted  Alderete. 

But  the  colonel's  blood  was  up,  and  his 
mind  was  set  on  overtaking  the  now  fleeing 
Spaniards.  The  rain  was  coming  down  in  tor 
rents,  and  the  dust  of  a  moment  before  was 
fast  turning  into  a  heavy  mud.  Faster  and 
harder  we  galloped,  now  slipping,  now  sliding, 
half-blinded  by  the  shower  of  mud,  straining 
every  muscle  as  we  urged  our  horses  in  the 
vain  hope  of  capturing  our  foes. 

They  were  making  for  the  ruins  of  La  Es- 
trella,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell 
they  disappeared  behind  the  walls  scarcely 
fifty  yards  ahead  of  us. 

"An  ambush!"  exclaimed  Alderete.  Too 
late.  A  flash  of  over  six  hundred  rifles  blinded 
us,  followed  by  the  whizz  of  as  many  bullets 
and  the  awe-inspiring  roar. 


IX  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  65 

The  enemy  had  been  too  smart  for  us.  We 
were  caught  in  the  trap. 

The  surprise  was  complete.  Confusion 
reigned.  A  moment  before  we  could  not  ride 
fast  enough,  now  all  our  strength  was  exerted 
in  stopping  our  horses.  The  sudden  halt 
caused  the  rear  ranks  to  ride  into  their  leaders. 
Horses  and  men  went  to  the  ground  in  horri 
ble  confusion. 

The  men  would  not  listen  to  orders.  Re 
spect  and  discipline  were  forgotten.  The 
enemy  saw  their  chance,  and  volley  after  vol 
ley  was  poured  into  us. 

Back  again  came  the  reinforced  guerrillas. 
With  cries  of  "Viva  Espanal"  "Viva  el 
Bey\"  they  charged.  This  was  the  last 
straw,  and  with  a  yell  of  terror  our  forces 
turned  and  fled.  I  gave  one  last  look  at  the 
enemy,  dug  my  spurs  into  my  horse  and  rode 
for  my  life. 

No  one  who  has  not  been  so  unfortunate  as 
to  take  an  active  part  in  a  panic  can  for  a 
moment  imagine  the  real  meaning  of  the  word. 


66  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

It  is  the  cessation  of  all  reasoning  power,  the 
acceptance,  as  unavoidable,  of  an  imminent 
danger  which  no  one  stops  to  examine,  and 
from  which  there  is  no  possible  escape  but  in 
a  rapid  and  brutal  flight. 

The  instinct  of  self-preservation  frequently 
transforms  a  coward  into  a  famous  hero;  but 
the  same  instinct,  under  other  circumstances 
and  moral  conditions  often  converts  a  handful 
of  brave  men  into  a  herd  of  sheep  who  run,  not 
knowing  whither,  to  fall,  perhaps,  into  a 
greater  danger. 

Such  was  our  condition  on  that  unfortunate 
day.  I  heard  nothing  but  the  triumphant  cries 
of  our  pursuers,  and  had  but  one  thought :  to 
escape.  I  knew  that  a  fall  from  my  horse,  or 
even  a  slight  wound,  meant  death  from  the 
merciless  sabers.  Crazy  with  fright,  I  rode 
like  a  frantic  man,  never  stopping  to  grasp  the 
extended  hand  of  a  fallen  comrade,  or  to  heed 
his  cry  for  help.  Trees  and  bushes  appeared 
before  mej  now  they  were  fifty  yards  behind, 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  6? 

yet  it  seemed  as  though  I  did  not  move,  as 
with  relentless  spur  I  urged  on  my  steed. 

A  man  went  down  in  front  of  me,  and  as  my 
horse  for  a  second  stumbled  over  him  I  cursed 
him.  Now  the  river  was  reached.  Every 
man  wished  to  pass  first.  There  was  space  for 
six  abreast.  Twenty  sprang  forward.  Down 
they  went,  and  over  them  rode  their  comrades. 
What  matter  if  a  hundred  perish,  provided 
you  live.  Death — death  was  behind  me.  I 
could  feel  its  icy  clutch  upon  my  neck.  Death 
in  all  its  horror,  of  which  I  had  never  thought 
and  often  joked — death,  that  gaunt  monster, 
was  calling  me,  with  extended  arms,  empty 
sockets  and  hollow,  mocking  laugh. 

I  could  feel  the  dull  thud  as  the  saber 
cleaved  my  skull.  I  cursed  myself,  I  cursed 
my  luck.  A  branch  struck  me  in  the  face ;  it 
would  have  stunned  me  before,  now  I  hardly 
felt  it. 

A  mile  away  were  the  woods.  To  reach 
them  meant  life  and  safety.  Would  I  do  it? 

Around  me  rode   the    panic-stricken   men, 


fi8  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH   GOMEZ. 

I 

now  scarcely  fifty.  On  each  face  was  painted 
horror  and  fright.  Each  soul  had  but  one 
thought — the  woods.  I  turned  in  my  saddle. 
Twenty  yards  behind  rode  the  jeering  and 
laughing  Spaniards,  now  holding  in  their 
horses,  now  dashing  almost  up  to  us. 

I  remember  distinctly  the  aspect  that  their 
leader  presented.  He  rode  a  splendid  black 
horse — rode  as  only  men  can  who  are  born  in 
the  saddle.  His  large  sombrero  was  perched 
on  one  side  of  his  head,  the  black  strap  hold 
ing  it  hung  just  below  his  lower  lip,  and 
served  to  increase  the  fierce  expression  given 
to  his  cruel  face  by  a  large  and  long  mustache. 
On  his  right  wrist  hung  his  saber,  shining  as 
it  swung  to  and  fro. 

When  I  turned  he  was  in  the  act  of  loading 
his  "Winchester,  and  as  he  shoved  the  cart 
ridges  home  he  smiled  in  a  diabolical,  fiendish 
manner.  On  both  sides  of  him  rode  the  troop 
ers.  One  of  them  had  jammed  a  shell  and 
broken  the  extractor,  and  his  vile  oaths  could 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  CO 

be  distinctly  heard  calling  down  curses  on  the 
head  of  the  maker  of  the  weapon. 

Back  on  the  road  over  which  we  had  traveled 
were  seen  the  mutilated  bodies  of  our  former 
comrades.  Hither  and  thither  ran  riderless 
horses,  stopping  anon  to  paw  the  ground  and 
sniff  with  fright  the  foul  air.  Overhead  hung 
a  cloud  of  vultures,  happy  at  the  barbarous 
sight,  soaring  without  a  motion  of  their  wings, 
and  waiting  for  the  moment  when  they  might 
satisfy  their  hunger. 

As  I  straightened  in  my  saddle  a  bullet  tore 
my  hat  from  its  cord ;  a  second  one  barely 
missed  my  head,  and  I  gave  a  gasp  as  I  real 
ized  that  I  had  been  picked  out  as  the  next 
victim.  There  is  nothing  more  appalling  than 
to  feel  that  you  are  thus  singled  out;  that 
you  can  no  longer  hide  yourself  among  your 
comrades.  A  moment  later  my  horse 
stumbled,  recovered,  and  then  pitched  headlong 
to  the  ground,  sliding  for  a  }rard  or  more  on 
his  side. 

With  a  cry  of  alarm  and  rage  I  struggled  to 


70  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

arise.  I  could  not.  My  horse  had  fallen  on 
me,  pinning  me  helpless  beneath  his  weight. 
All  my  efforts  to  reach  my  gnu  or  machete 
were  useless ;  they  lay  beneath  me,  and  strive 
as  I  might  I  could  not  touch  them. 

Oh,  the  anguish  of  that  moment!  Never 
will  I  forget  it !  A  soldier  goes  to  war  expect 
ing  to  die,  but  to  die  like  a  man — not  to  be 
butchered  like  a  pig. 

As  I  lay  there,  expecting  to  hear  the  hiss  of 
the  saber  cutting  the  air  on  its  way  to  end  my 
misery,  millions  of  thoughts  sprang  through 
my  brain,  and  the  seconds  seemed  hours.  Ex 
hausted  by  the  run  and  the  loss  of  blood 
caused  by  its  wounds,  my  horse  refused  to 
obey  me,  but  lay  still  and  panting.  In  vain 
did  I  coax,  in  vain  did  I  urge ;  all  I  received 
in  answer  was  an  indifferent  motion  of  his  ears 
as  they  beat  time  to  the  throbbing  of  his  break 
ing  heart. 

So  this  was  the  end  of  all  my  hopes  and 
dreams.  A  horse  dashed  up  to  within  a  foot 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  71 

of  me.  I  closed  my  eyes,  muttered  a  prayer, 
and  awaited  the  end. 

"For  God's  sake  look  sharp!  Try  to  get 
up!  I  have  six  shots  in  my  Mauser!  Pull 
on  the  reins!"  cried  a  voice  that  I  recognized 
as  brave  old  Sisto's. 

With  the  strength  of  a  condemned  man  who 
sees  one  more  chance  of  escape  I  grasped  the 
reins  and  jerked  my  horse's  head  completely 
off  the  ground. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  pain,  may  be  it  was  fate, 
but  my  horse  responded,  and  with  an  effort 
rose  to  his  feet.  In  a  second  I  was  up  and  in 
the  saddle,  calling  on  my  little  thoroughbred 
for  a  last  attempt  for  life  and  liberty. 

We  rode  as  never  man  rode  before.  Around 
us  hummed  and  whistled  the  bullets — the  very 
air  seemed  alive  with  them. 

My  horse  appeared  to  realize  the  situation, 
and  stretched  his  wiry  body  and  plied  his 
swift  legs  in  a  mighty  and  last  attempt. 

Never  had  he  responded  so  to  my  words  be 
fore.  With  extended  neck,  and  ears  that  lay 


72  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

back  over  his  little  yellow  bead,  he  made  with 
terrific  speed  for  the  sheltering  woods  into 
which  our  band  was  already  vanishing. 

Now  over  a  ditch,  now  over  a  fence,  nearer 
and  nearer  we  came,  until  at  last,  with  a  final 
stride,  we  entered  the  sheltering  trees.  A 
second  later  we  were  lost  to  view  and  saved. 

"Why  tell  of  the  heartrending  spectacle  there 
in?  Of  that  sad  sight  of  eighteen  men,  all 
that  remained  of  our  force,  scarcely  one  with 
out  a  wound,  all  heartbroken.  With  a  sob  of 
mingled  grief  and  joy,  I  threw  my  arms  around 
my  horse's  neck  and  buried  my  face  in  his 
shaggy  mane. 

Faithful  little  fellow !  Never  had  I  a  truer 
friend. 


IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH    GOMEZ. 


VI. 

THROUGH  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH. 

"Is  there  a  man  here  willing  to  risk  his  life 
in  this  attempt?"  demanded  General  Capote. 

For  a  moment  no  one  answered,  each  man 
looking  at  his  neighbor.  Many  present  had 
imperiled  their  lives  over  and  over  again ;  but 
this  venture  seemed  too  hazardous  even  to  the 
most  dare-devil  spirit.  The  odds  were  ten  to 
one  against  success. 

"No  one?"  asked  the  general  again,  this 
time  with  a  ring  of  disappointment  in  his 
voice. 

"Pardon  me,  sir,  but  I  will  do  it." 

The  speaker  was  Lieutenant  Falcon,  a  mere 
boy  of  twenty-two,  the  favorite  of  his  regiment. 

A  murmur  of  surprise  and  applause  ran 
through  the  assembled  council  as  Falcon  arose 
and  made  his  statement. 


74  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

"I  congratulate  you,  sir;  the  brigade 
should  be  proud  of  you,"  replied  the  general, 
a  smile  lighting  up  his  rugged  face  as  he  affec 
tionately  placed  his  hand  on  his  young  subor 
dinate's  shoulder. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  continued,  "you  are  dis 
missed.  Lieutenant  Falcon,  kindly  remain  a 
moment  longer. 

Somewhat  shamefaced,  the  officers  saluted 
and  retired. 

The  capture  of  a  fort  had  for  some  time 
been  thought  of,  and  the  general  had  on  that 
night  called  his  officers  together  and  submitted 
to  them  his  plan  of  attack.  To  obtain  posses 
sion  of  the  enemy's  post  by  force  was  impossi 
ble.  By  strategy  alone  could  it  be  effected. 

The  fort  in  question  was  garrisoned  by  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  men,  including  three 
officers,  and  was  well  provided  with  ammuni 
tion.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  halting-place  for  all 
Spanish  columns  in  need  of  the  necessary  im 
plements  of  war. 

Situated  in  a  large  clearing,  surrounded  by 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  75 

a  ditch  six  feet  by  four,  again  encircled  by  a 
fence  formed  of  six  wires,  it  was,  as  the  reader 
may  well  imagine,  most  difficult  to  approach. 

For  many  days  Capote  had  been  scheming, 
and  after  hearing  his  plan  the  officers  were 
unanimous  in  their  approval. 

Just  below  one  of  the  sentry-boxes  an  open 
ing  had  been  made,  barely  large  enough  to 
admit  the  passage  of  a  man.  Its  use  formerly 
had  been  as  an  exit  for  garbage,  but  it  now 
lay  almost  hidden  beneath  the  grass  which 
time  and  idleness  had  allowed  to  grow. 

To  enter  the  fort  through  the  aperture,  over 
power  the  surprised  guard  and  open  the  door 
to  our  men — this  was  the  venture  which  the 
young  lieutenant  had  undertaken.  It  was  a  task 
to  tax  the  nerve  and  resource  of  the  boldest. 

Lieutenant  Alfred  Falcon  had  but  a  few 
months  previously  joined  the  brigade ;  but 
being  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  phrase  "a 
jolly  good  fellow,"  he  had  quickly  made 
friends  with  everyone.  His  light-hearteduess 
and  happy-go-lucky  ways  were  captivating. 


76  IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

"Now,  my  boy,"  continued  the  general, 
after  all  Lad  left,  "you  are  doubtlessly 
aware  of  the  imminent  peril  of  the  mission 
which  you  are  about  to  undertake,  and  while 
admiring  your  courage,  I  cannot  refrain  from 
attempting  to  lay  before  you  all  the  risk  you 
will  incur.  You  are  far  too  young  to  throw 
away  your  life  so  recklessly." 

"I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  kind  advice," 
replied  Falcon ;  "but  I  have  thought  over  all 
the  dangers,  and  I  am  determined  to  go." 

"Very  well,  so  be  it,"  answered  General 
Capote.  "AVhen  will  you  be  ready  to  start?" 

"To-morrow  evening  would  suit  me,  "said 
Falcon;  "the  moon  will  not  be  up  before  two 
o'clock,  and  by  that  hour  all  will  be  over." 

"As  you  wish.  I  will  break  camp  at  seven 
o'clock  to-morrow  night.  That  is  all,"  said 
Capote. 

Lieutenant  Falcon  turned,  and  walked  to 
ward  a  group  of  brother-officers  who  were  im 
patiently  waiting  to  congratulate  him. 

A  circle  was  formed  around  the  huge  camp- 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  7? 

fire,  on  which  a  large  pot  of  coffee  was  soon 
boiling.  Pipes  and  cigarettes  were  lighted, 
and  Falcon  was  requested  to  stand  up  and  en 
lighten  the  assembly  as  to  his  plans  and  his 
hopes  of  success. 

"Boys,"  he  cried,  while  striving  to  balance 
himself  on  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree — "boys, 
we  are  all  here  to  fight  for  the  same  cause,  and 
I  know  that  if  I  should  fail  to-morrow  every 
one  of  you  would  be  eager  to  make  the  same 
attempt.  I'll  let  you  into  that  fort  to-morrow 
night,  boys,  or — • 

But  here  he  lost  his  balance,  and  his  gen 
erous  speech  was  cut  short. 

Many  were  the  deeds  of  valor  told  and  lis 
tened  to  that  night,  and  the  meeting  was  prom 
ising  to  be  a  long  one  when  it  was  interrupted 
by  the  notes  of  the  bugle  sounding  "taps, " 
followed  a  second  later  by  the  shrill  whistle  of 
"silence." 

"Good-nights"  were  whispered,  and  each 
man  betook  him  to  his  quarters,  and  then  the 
measured  step  of  the  sentry  alone  broke  the 


78  IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

silence.  Now  and  then  a  form  would  disen 
tangle  itself  from  its  numerous  coverings  and 
arise  to  throw  a  log  on  the  fire,  which  would 
leap  and  flare,  casting  its  bright  light  over  the 
blanketed  bodies  of  the  sleeping  men. 

The  day  dawned  beautiful  and  cool.  The 
woods  were  alive  with  the  merry  twitter  of 
birds  as  the  men  bustled  about  preparing  their 
breakfast. 

Horses  were  bathed,  and  tethered  in  spots 
where  the  grass  was  fresh.  Hammocks  were 
uuslung  and  rolled  up.  Pots  and  kettles  were 
hung  over  the  h'res.  Vegetables  were  being 
washed  and  peeled,  while  over  everything  pre 
vailed  such  an  atmosphere  of  joy  and  peace 
that  were  it  not  for  the  glitter  of  steel  from  the 
stacked  arms  one  would  have  imagined  himself 
on  some  merry  hunting  expedition. 

Here  and  there  were  officers  writing  letters, 
while  others,  less  held  by  the  ties  of  home  and 
friendship,  stood  idly  smoking  as  they  watched 
the  grooming  of  their  favorite  horses. 

"JEJow  is  Mambi'sleg  this  morning,  Juan?" 


IN1   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMKZ.  79 

asked  Falcon,  gently  running  his  hand  over  a 
cruel -look  ing  scar. 

"As  fit  as  can  be,  sir,"  answered  the 
orderly.  "You  will  be  able  to  ride  him  to 
night,"  he  added,  casting  an  admiring  glance 
at  his  young  officer. 

"Come  here;  take  this,  old  boy,"  called 
Falcon,  as  he  held  out  to  his  horse  a  tempting 
fresh  carrot.  The  little  fellow  lifted  his  soft 
nose  from  the  grass,  and  catching  sight  of  the 
generous  offering,  lazily  accepted  it. 

Slowly  the  day  wore  on,  till  at  last  the  sun 
sank  beneath  the  horizon. 

Preparatory  call  had  just  been  sounded,  and 
the  camp  was  hastily  preparing  for  its  noctur 
nal  expedition. 

The  forms  of  the  men  stood  out  like  sil 
houettes  in  the  fading  twilight,  and  their  gro 
tesque  shadows  danced  to  and  fro  across  the 
open  field. 

' '  Tararaaa — tararaa — ta-ta-ta — ti-ta ! ' '  rang 
out,  and  was  followed  by  the  orders,  "Fall  in, 
men!  Lively,  there!" 


80  IN   THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

The  trampling  of  four  hundred  horses,  the 
rattling  of  stirrups  and  arms,  for  a  moment 
vibrated  through  the  air ;  then  all  was  silent, 
each  man  at  attention  in  his  place. 

One  after  another  came  the  orders,  and  the 
troop  broke  into  columns  of  two  and  marched 
by  the  guard. 

Falcon  rode  at  the  side  of  his  men  as  calm 
and  collected  as  if  on  pleasure  bent,  his  slim 
figure  making  a  strange  contrast  to  those  of  his 
hardened  veterans. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken,  and  the  troop  jour 
neyed  in  an  ominous  silence. 

At  the  head  of  his  men  rode  General  Capote, 
his  large  Panama  hat  pushed  back  from  his 
forehead,  looking  an  out-and-out  fighter. 

A  march  of  an  hour,  then  a  halt.  The  men 
dismounted,  tied  their  horses  and  continued 
their  journey  on  foot. 

The  hands  of  the  watch  pointed  to  twenty 
minutes  past  nine  when  the  spot  designated  for 
the  final  halt  was  reached. 

Through  the  haze  could  be  dimly  traced  the 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  81 

faint  outlines  of  the  fort  where  it  stood  on  the 
summit  of  a  small  hill,  the  north  side  of  which 
gradually  sloped  until  it  reached  a  level.  The 
trees  for  fifty  yards  about  it  had  been  felled, 
and  now  lay  hidden  beneath  the  tall  grass. 

Orders  were  issued  in  a  low  tone,  and  the 
men  rapidly  deployed,  surrounding  the  open 
ing,  screening  themselves  from  view  behind 
the  bushes  and  trees. 

The  mist  of  a  short  while  before  had  thickly 
settled  down  into  a  heavy  fog,  most  favorable 
to  their  designs. 

The  fort  could  no  longer  be  discerned,  and 
the  monotonous  tramp  of  the  sentry  pacing  his 
beat,  varied  anon  by  the  rattle  of  his  arms  as 
he  shifted  position,  was  the  only  sound  which 
reached  their  ears. 

Ten  o'clock.  A  scurry  of  feet,  and  a  shaft 
of  light  darted  forth  into  the  fog  as  a  door 
opened  and  the  relief  squad  turned  out.  Then 
once  more  all  was  still. 

Behind  a  broad  ceiba  was  Falcon.  He  had 
taken  off  his  spurs  and  all  his  arms,  retaining 


82  IX   THE   SAD'-I.E    WITH    GOMKZ. 

only  his  hunting-knife  and  revolver.  At  his 
side  was  General  Capote,  talking  to  him  in  a 
low  whisper. 

The  boy's  face  was  pale  as  death,  but  in  his 
eyes  shone  the  light  of  a  brave  and  fearless 
nature. 

"Remember,"  cautioned  the  general— 
"avoid  all  unnecessary  danger.  Chance  may 
favor  you  and  allow  you  to  pass  the  sentry 
unseen.  Do  so,  if  possible.  The  doors  are 
on  your  right  as  you  enter.  There  is  but  one 
bolt.  Withdraw  that  and  fling  them  open. 
From  the  moment  that  you  leave  here 
I  will  pass  the  word,  so  that  everyone  may 
be  ready  to  act.  I  thinK  you  may  safely  start 
now.  Are  you  ready?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  brave  lad. 

"Go,  then,  my  boy,  and  may  God  watch 
over  you,"  answered  the  general,  grasping  his 
hand. 

In  another  moment  Falcon  had  stepped 
from  behind  the  tree  and  was  parting  the 
bushes  that  separated  him  from  the  clearing 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  83 

Then  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  he  went, 
and  softly  pushing  aside  the  tall  grass,  started 
on  his  journey  of  duty  and  peril. 

Slowly  and  gently  he  crept  along,  stopping 
every  few  yards  with  bated  breath  and  throb 
bing  heart  to  listen.  Stones  and  thorns  pierced 
and  lacerated  his  hands,  but  he  heeded  them  not. 

Now  he  had  reached  the  fence,  and  could 
plainly  see  the  form  of  the  sentry. 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated  ;  then,  as  the  sol 
dier  disappeared  behind  the  box,  he  quickly 
slid  beneath  the  bottom  wire.  A  few  yards 
further  and  he  touched  the  edge  of  the  ditch. 
The  most  difficult  and  dangerous  part  of  his 
journey  had  been  reached. 

How  was  he  to  cross  that  broad  strip  of 
space  without  attracting  the  guard's  atten 
tion?  To  jump  was  impossible,  and  not  to  be 
thought  of.  There  was  only  one  way  to  accom 
plish  it.  He  must  drop  into  the  ditch  and 
crawl  up  the  opposite  embankment. 

AVith  a  hand  that  trembled  from  excitement 
he  felt  along  the  edge  until,  finding  a  protrud- 


84  IN   THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

ing  root,  he  grasped  it  firmly  with  both  hands, 
lowered  himself  over  the  edge,  and  as  his  feet 
broke  the  surface  of  the  green  stagnant  water 
and  touched  the  muddy  bottom  he  heaved  a 
sigh  of  relief.  Quickly  he  turned  to  seek  the 
opposite  side,  when  an  unfortunate  movement 
of  his  hand  loosened  a  pebble,  which  dropped 
with  a  splash  into  the  water. 

Instantly  the  sentry  stopped,  and  as  Falcon 
looked  up  he  saw  the  man  peering  directly 
over  the  ramparts  into  his  face.  Falcon  stood 
like  one  paralyzed;  he  dared  not  breathe,  and 
his  heart  throbbed  painfully  as  for  a  moment 
his  blood  seemed  turned  to  ice. 

It  seemed  ages  before  the  sentry  faced  about 
and  resumed  his  walk ;  and  even  then  Falcon 
feared  to  stir,  lest  hit!  next  movement  should 
betray  him.  However,  after  a  few  moments 
his  confidence  returned,  and  exerting  all  his 
strength,  he  drew  himself  up  the  incline. 
Once  there,  he  groped  around  until  he  found 
the  entrance,  and,  crouching  down,  paused  to 
gain  strength  for  the  final  effort. 


IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  85 

His  clothing  was  in  shreds,  and  his  bleed 
ing  hands,  into  which  the  mud  was  ground, 
stung  fiercely. 

It  was  growing  late,  and  no  time  was  to  be 
lost.  Casting  a  last  look  at  the  spot  where  he 
had  left  his  comrades,  he  grasped  his  knife, 
and,  throwing  himself  flat  upon  his  stomach, 
slipped  into  the  opening. 

Slim  as  he  was,  he  could  barely  squeeze  his 
way  through.  Inch  by  inch  he  slowly  ad 
vanced,  now  dragging,  now  pushing,  with  a 
steady  snake-like  motion.  Dust  and  moss 
fell  from  above,  filling  his  lungs  and  nearly 
choking  him.  It  seemed  as  if  the  end  would 
never  be  reached.  Every  few  seconds  he  could 
see  the  soldier's  feet  as  they  passed  the  open 
ing  of  the  passage.  Falcon  knew  that  he  must 
time  himself  so  as  to  leave  the  tunnel  directly 
after  the  Spaniard  passed  the  exit,  and  then 
surprise  and  overpower  him  when  his  back  was 
turned.  Once  more  the  man's  feet  came  into 
view  and  disappeared. 

"I'll  do  it  the  next  time,"  muttered  Falcon. 


86  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

Back  again  came  the  sentry.  Shuffle — 
shuffle,  closer  and  closer,  came  the  steps, 
until,  when  almost  opposite  Falcon's  face, 
they  stopped.  The  next  instant  the  butt  of  the 
gun  struck  the  ground :  the  sentinel  had  halted 
— tired,  perhaps.  A  fatal  coincidence,  and 
one  which,  if  prolonged,  would  result  disas 
trously.  Falcon  decided  to  act. 

Edging  a  few  inches  nearer,  he  firmly 
grasped  the  knife.  Without  a  thought  to  his 
own  safety,  he  sprang  out,  almost  from  under 
the  feet  of  the  surprised  guard. 

For  a  second  both  men  faced  each  other; 
then  with  a  tiger-like  jump  Falcon  sprang  at 
his  foe's  throat,  but  not  before  his  startled 
adversary  had  raised  his  gun  and  driven  the 
bayonet  through  Falcon's  leg,  where,  becom 
ing  unlocked  from  the  barrel,  it  remained. 

With  a  half-stifled  cry  of  pain,  the  brave 
officer  fell  to  the  ground,  dragging  his  antag 
onist  with  him.  Over  and  over  they  rolled, 
the  grasp  on  the  Spaniard's  throat  preventing 
him  from  making  any  outcry. 


TN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  87 

Tightening  his  hold,  Falcon  brought  his  fist 
down  with  crushing  force  upon  the  face  of  hia 
opponent.  Again  and  again  it  descended, 
until  the  man's  head  sank  back  upon  the 
ground.  Fully  convinced  that  lie  was  not 
shamming,  Falcon  loosened  his  hold  and  pain 
fully  grose. 

Almost  fainting  from  the  struggle  and  loss 
of  blood,  he  started  for  the  door. 

It  was  only  necessary  to  walk  a  few  yards, 
yet  the  distance  seemed  immeasurable  as 
slowly  he  dragged  his  crippled  limb  after  him, 
until  at  last,  with  a  final  effort,  he  reached  the 
entrance,  withdrew  the  bolt,  and  threw  the 
door  wide  open.  For  a  second  nothing 
stirred.  Then  in  poured  a  shrieking,  shout 
ing  human  avalanche. 

Throughout  the  fort  resounded  the  victo 
rious  yells  of  the  Cubans.  The  sharp  crack  of 
the  revolver,  the  crash  of  steel  and  the  cries  of 
the  surprised  and  dying  Spaniards  made  the 
place  a  pandemonium. 

Some  were   shot  as   they  lay  in  their  cots; 


88  IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

others,  more  fortunate,  Lad  time  to  defend 
themselves. 

For  over  an  hour  the  struggle  continued. 
Then,  little  by  little,  the  uproar  subsided— 
and  presently  to  the  peak  of  the  flagpole 
fluttered  up  the  solitary  star  of  Cuba. 

Around  a  bench  in  the  guardroom  were 
grouped  a  crowd  of  officers,  looking  with  anx 
ious  eyes  upon  the  still  form  of  Lieutenant 
Falcon.  They  were  waiting  impatiently  for 
the  verdict  of  the  doctor,  as  with  tender  hands 
he  withdrew  the  bayonet  and  bandaged  the 
wounded  limb. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  physician,  putting 
the  finishing  touches  to  his  work — "gentle 
men,  Lieutenant  Falcon  will  in  a  few  weeks  be 
able  to  resume  his  place  among  you." 

"Captain  Falcon,  you  should  say,"  replied 
the  old  general,  as  he  bent  over  the  silent 
form  and  pinned  three  silver  stars  on  the 
blood-stained  shirt. 


IN  THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 


VII. 

FIGHTING   WITH   DYNAMITE. 

IT  promised  to  be  a  novel  experience,  and  I 
felt  a  thrill  of  excitement  run  through  me 
when  my  name  was  mentioned  together  with 
that  of  Captain  Domingo  del  Monte  as  chief 
actors  in  the  venture. 

We  were  going  to  mine  the  highway,  and,  if 
possible,  blow  half  a  column  of  Spaniards  into 
eternity. 

Captain  Del  Monte  received  his  orders  in 
his  methodical,  cool  English  manner  (he  had 
been  brought  up  in  England),  not  betraying 
his  emotions  even  by  the  quiver  of  an  eyelash. 
I,  on  the  contrary,  could  feel  the  color  come 
and  go  in  my  face ;  and  as  I  extended  my  hand 
for  the  six  little  deadly  black  packages  it 
trembled  so  that  for  a  moment  it  looked  rather 


90  Ift  THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

dubious  as  to  just  when  the  explosion  would 
take  place. 

"Captain  Del  Monte  will  superintend  the 
construction  of  the  pits,  while  you  M  ill  be  in 
charge  of  the  men  and  dynamite,"  said  Colo 
nel  Alvarez,  as  he  dismissed  us.  "And," 
he  continued,  "try  to  make  a  success  out  of 
this." 

Handling  my  perilous  parcel  with  the  great 
est  respect  and  care,  I  turned  and  walked  with 
Del  Monte  back  to  our  quarters. 

Almost  any  one  who  has  not  had  any  deal 
ings  with  dynamite  is  liable  to  feel  a  trifle  ner 
vous  when  thrust  so  unexpectedly  into  contact 
with  it.  I  confess  that,  while  feeling  highly 
honored  by  my  commission,  I  would  fain  have 
handed  over  to  any  one  else  the  glory  of  carry 
ing  the  explosive.  My  fears,  I  observed  with 
pleasure,  were  not  unshared ;  for  my  orderly, 
upon  my  arrival,  and  after  noticing  my  unwel 
come  burden,  withdrew  to  a  very  respectful 
distance,  whence  every  now  and  then  he  cast 
upon  me  a  sorrowful  and  apprehensive  glance. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  91 

Placing  my  parcel  in  a  secure  spot  (where 
everyone  could  see  it  and  avoid  intruding 
upon  its  uncertain  temper),  I  invited  Captain 
Del  Monte  to  breakfast  with  me  and  discuss 
our  plan  of  action. 

"When  will  you  be  ready  to  inarch'?"  I 
asked,  starting  to  light  a  cigarette,  but  quickly 
changing  my  intentions. 

"Well,  you  see,  that  depends,"  drawled  Del 
Monte,  in  his  Piccadilly  accent.  "We  must 
wait  for  Manuel,  who  left  early  this  morning 
for  the  deposit,  where  the  batteries  and  other 
utensils  are  stored.  The  troops  will  not  be 
along  before  to-morrow  afternoon,  so  if  we 
leave  here  to-night  and  encamp  near  the  road 
we  will  have  plenty  of  time  in  which  to  work. 
How  many  men  will  you  take?" 

"How  many  shall  you  require?"   I  asked. 

"Fifteen  men  can  do  the  work  in  two 
hours,"  answered  he.  "If  you  intend  to 
fight,  however,  you  should  take  a  larger  force. 

"My  orders  are  to  protect  you  from  a  sur 
prise  while  you  work,"  said  I,  "and  after  the 


92  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMKZ. 

mines  are  exploded  I  am  to  fire  a  fe\v  volleys 
and  retire  in  good  order.  Colonel  Alvarez's 
idea  is  for  me  not  to  fight,  but  to  so  cripple 
and  frighten  the  Spaniards  with  the  dynamite 
that  they  will  abandon  all  farther  intention  cf 
attacking  TIS  and  retreat  into  the  village.'' 

"Oh,  if  that  is  the  case,  thirty  men  should 
be  sufficient, "  replied  Del  Monte,  yawning  to 
the  full  extent  of  his  powerful  lungs.  "My 
goodness!"  he  continued,  "do  you  intend  to 
starve  me?  Here  it  is  halt-past  eleven  and 
your  man  doesn't  seem  to  be  making  much 
headway  with  his  cooking." 

"Here,  Raphael,"  I  called,  "what's  the 
matter  with  breakfast?  Everybody  else  has 
finished,  and  we  have  not  even  begun." 

"The  chicken  is  a  little  tough,  sir,"  he  an 
swered  apologetically,  "and  — 

"Chicken!"  I  exclaimed,  in  surprise. 
"Why,  where  did  it  come  from?" 

"Why,  it  was  kind  of  wandering  around, 
sir,  and  I  thought  it  would  come  in  handy," 
said  the  black  rascal,  with  a  capacious  grin. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  93 

"How  are  you  cooking  it?"  inquired  Del 
Monte,  with  awakened  interest. 

"Frying  it  in  tallow,  sir,"  replied  Raphael, 
with  all  the  seriousness  of  an  imported  chef. 

"Well,  see  that  you  bring  it  in  hot,"  said  I, 
as  he  returned  to  his  fire. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  cook?"  asked  Del 
Monte,  when  the  man  had  left. 

"He  turned  up  after  the  encounter  at  San 
Felipe,"  I  replied.  "He  was  very  much 
rattled  and  unstrung,  and  convinced  that  cook 
ing  was  more  in  his  line  than  fighting,  so  I 
let  him  be  my  cook." 

"Well,  he  knows  how  to  obtain  a  breakfast, 
answered  Del  Monte.      "I  hope  his  cooking  is 
equal  to  his  foraging. 

"Here  is  the  heralded  morsel  now,  and  you 
can  see  for  yourself,"  said  I  cheerfully,  as 
Raphael  appeared  upon  the  scene  with  a  much- 
battered  kettle,  in  the  bottom  of  which,  float 
ing  in  a  sea  of  seething  tallow,  was  the  dimin 
utive  chicken. 

We  had  long  since  forgotten  the  authentic 


04  IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

appearance  of  a  properly  cooked  fowl,  so,  tak 
ing  our  chef  at  his  word,  we  began  eating 
rapidly,  lest  the  tallow  should  grow  cold,  as  A 
vegetable  we  had  roasted  bananas.  Our  frugal 
meal  at  an  end,  we  lay  down  under  a  shady 
tree  to  enjoy  a  cigar  which  would  have  passed 
muster  as  A  No.  1  in  any  part  of  the  world. 

"Thank  goodness  there  were  only  two  of  us 
to  that  chicken,"  muttered  Del  Monte,  wiping 
the  tallow  from  his  lips. 

The  heat  soon  became  oppressive.  The 
camp  grew  very  still.  The  men  lay  silently 
under  the  bamboos.  There  was  no  sound  but 
the  low  cooing  of  doves  in  the  branches  over 
head. 

Soon  my  eyelids  grew  heavy,  and,  lulled  by 
the  rustle  of  the  leaves  as  an  occasional  puff  of 
wind  gently  swayed  their  branches,  I  fell 
asleep. 

From  a  dream  of  Spanish  tortures,  a  hide 
ous  nightmare,  I  was  awakened  by  a  blessedly 
familiar  voice  in  my  ear,  saying,  "Manuel  has 
just  returned,  sir." 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  0 

I  opened  my  eyes  to  find  my  orderly  and 
Manuel  at  my  side,  the  latter  with  a  large 
bundle  on  his  shoulder. 

"Eh— returned?  Who?  Which?  Oh, 
yes!  Did  you  bring  all  the  stuff,  Manuel?" 
I  asked,  after  much  bewildered  yawning. 

"Yes,  sir.  All  that  I  could  find.  I  have 
two  batteries  here,  fifteen  hundred  feet  of 
wire,  a  couple  of  shovels  and  pickaxes,  to 
gether  with  a  box  of  sawdust,  which  will  serve 
to  carry  the  dynamite  in,"  answered  he. 
"Here  are  the  batteries, "  he  continued;  "the 
rest  of  the  outfit  is  on  the  mule. ' ' 

"Very  well.  We  must  start  at  once,  if  Cap 
tain  Del  Monte  is  read}'.  Go  tell  the  captain 
it  is  two  o'clock,  Kaphael." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  orderly  returned,  fol 
lowed  closely  by  Del  Monte,  who  agreed  with 
me  that  it  would  be  well  to  start  at  once. 

An  hour  later  we  had  set  out  on  our  march. 
The  force  consisted  of  thirty-five  men  and  a 
pack-mule,  which  carried  the  batteries,  tools 
and  the  box  containing  the  explosive.  It  was 


96  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

most  ludicrous  to  notice  how  every  one  avoided 
that  mule,  and  once  when  he  became  stuck  in 
a  bog  and  began  to  rear  and  plunge  in  his 
efforts  to  free  himself  a  panic  was  narrowly 
avoided. 

All  the  men  scattered,  deploying,  by  force 
of  habit,  at  about  seventy -five  yards'  distance, 
where  they  impatiently  awaited  the  outcome 
of  events.  The  animal,  however,  managed  to 
extricate  himself,  and  resuming  his  customary 
woebegone  expression,  again  plodded  calmly 
along. 

The  first  stars  were  sparkling  faintly  in  the 
darkening  sky  when  we  reached  our  destina 
tion  and  halted. 

The  outposts  were  stationed,  horses  unsad 
dled,  hammocks  slung,  blankets  unrolled,  and 
a  large  fire  kindled,  making  us  in  a  very  short 
while  tolerably  at  home. 

Suddenly  there  arose  high  in  the  air  a  human 
voice.  Louder  and  stronger  it  swelled,  now 
rising,  now  falling,  as  with  the  old  vigor  of 
happier  days  Del  Monte  sang  "The  Marseil- 


IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  07 

laise. "  The  sound,  caught  up  by  the  woods, 
re-echoed  far  away,  and  at  the  grand  chorus  in 
which  France  calls  her  children  to  arms  my 
depression  and  care  were  forgotten.  My  blood 
once  more  leaped  through  my  veins  as  I 
proudly  felt  that  I  was  fighting  for  that  sacred 
cause:  Liberty. 

At  dawn  the  camp  was  busy  in  its  prepara 
tions  for  the  coming  adventure.  A  spot  was 
chosen  about  two  hundred  yards  distant  from 
the  road  as  a  safe  place  from  which  to  operate 
the  batteries;  and  the  wire,  extended  in  as 
straight  a  line  as  possible,  was  covered  with 
dirt  and  twigs,  so  that  its  glimmer  would  not 
betray  us.  Upon  reaching  the  wall  which  ran 
parallel  with  the  highway  it  was  passed  be 
neath  the  lower  layer  of  stones. 

The  pits  were  dug  eight  feet  by  four  and 
three  in  depth.  At  the  bottom  of  the  holes 
ivere  placed  the  three  cartridges,  two  feet  apart 
the  set  joined  by  a  wire  which  in  turn  was 
connected  to  the  main  one.  Rocks  and  logs 
were  placed  on  top,  which  were  again  covered 


08  IN   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

with  earth.  The  surface  was  leveled  arid 
trampled  upon  so  as  to  remove  all  traces  of 
freshly  shoveled  dirt. 

In  an  incredibly  short  time  all  was  finished, 
and  the  men,  nothing  loath  to  separate  them 
selves  from  so  dangerous  an  article,  scampered 
back  into  the  woods. 

The  batteries  were  ordinary  storage  ones, 
with  a  connector  to  join  on  to  the  wire,  and  a 
small  telegraphic  button  which,  when  pressed, 
would  explode  the  mines. 

Del  Monte  had  charge  of  one  of  these  and 
his  aid  of  the  other.  I  was  to  give  the  signal 
when  the  enemy  had  passed  over  the  further 
pit,  so  as  to  make  sure  that  both  mines  would 
be  covered  before  the  buttons  were  pressed. 

It  was  well  near  half -past  one  when  the  dis 
tant  notes  of  the  Spanish  bugle  reached  us,  and 
the  vanguard  of  their  strong  column  was  dimly 
made  out  as  it  rounded  a  far-off  curve  in  the 
road.  At  first  but  mere  moving  specks,  they 
rapidly  grew  in  size,  as  with  a  firm,  uniform 
tread,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  they  swung  along. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  99 

A  feeling  of  horror  and  pity  crept  over  me  as 
I  watched  them  inarching  on  so  unconcerned 
and  unsuspecting.  Laughing  and  talking,  they 
came  down  the  road,  and  their  faces  were  dis 
tinctly  visible  as  they  passed  our  ambush. 

I  glanced  around  at  the  men,  who,  prone 
upon  their  faces,  with  their  guns  resting  on 
logs  or  stones,  awaited  but  the  word  to  fire, 
A  short  distance  apart  from  me  were  Del  Monte 
and  his  assistant,  each  with  a  finger  held 
poised  above  the  button,  ready  for  my  fatal 
signal. 

The  advance  rank  of  the  main  body  had 
passed  the  first  pit — yet  I  must  wait  until  they 
had  cleared  the  second  in  order  to  insure  the 
success  of  both  mines. 

Fascinated,  I  watched  the  movements  of  a 
soldier  who,  with  his  gun  slung  across  his 
back,  was  tossing  a  couple  of  oranges  as  he 
trudged  along.  A  sense  of  pity  seized  me, 
arid  I  determined  to  wait  until  he  passed  before 
giving  the  order.  At  last  he  was  by  The 
moment  for  action  had  arrived.  With  eyes 


100          IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH  GOMEZ. 

bulging  out  of  my  Lead  and  bands  tightly 
clutched,  I  leaned  forward  and  gave  the  order. 

Simultaneously  with  the  word  a  deafening 
report  rent  the  air,  followed  instantly  by 
another.  Dark  shapes  shot  up  and  fell  almost 
at  our  feet ;  cries  of  agony,  despair  and  terror 
mingled  with  the  sharp  crack  of  the  carbines. 
A  sickening  odor  of  burned  flesh  filled  our  nos 
trils,  and  over  all  there  hung  a  dense,  heavy 
black  cloud  of  smoke,  which  slowly  rose,  dis 
closing  a  horrible  and  cruel  sight. 

The  Spaniards,  as  if  by  common  accord, 
turned  and  fled,  not  heeding  the  orders  of 
their  officers,  who  vainly  tried  to  rally  them. 
Horror-stricken,  they  ran,  never  stopping  in 
their  mad  career  until  they  reached  the  village. 

Hastily  gathering  up  our  paraphernalia,  we 
mounted  our  horses  and  galloped  over  to  the 
scene  of  carnage. 

The  road  had  been  torn  up  into  a  cave,  whence 
the  smoke  yet  curled;  bent  guns,  severed 
heads  and  disemboweled  horses  lay  mingled 
in  sickening  heaps.  Here  lay  a  body  whose 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  101 

hideously  contorted  features  marked  the  acute 
agony  he  had  suffered  until  relieved  by  death. 
At  his  side  and  almost  touching  him  was  the 
body  of  a  mere  boy,  whose  wide-open  eyes 
still  held  the  expression  of  surprise  and  hor 
ror;  while  far  above  yet  hung  the  black  cloud, 
making,  as  it  gracefully  rolled  and  floated,  a 
fitting  mantle  to  so  cruel  a  scene.  With  a 
heavy  heart,  I  gave  the  order  to  close  up  and 
continue  the  march. 


102          IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH  GOMEZ. 

VIII. 

THE  SACK  OF  SANTA  CLARA. 

"WouLD  it  ever  stop  raining?"  That  was  the 
question  we  all  asked  each  other  as  we  stood 
beneath  the  trees,  drenched  from  head  to  foot, 
hungry  and  cold. 

It  was  four  o'clock  P.M.  and  the  water  had  been 
coming  down  in  torrents  ever  since  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  at  which  hour  a  halt  had  been 
ordered  and  camp  formed ;  and  now,  twelve 
hundred  strong,  we  sat  beneath  the  tall  mango 
trees  waiting  impatiently  for  the  sun  to  shine 
and  warm  our  shivering  bodies. 

Beneath  a  bending  and  groaning  tree,  a 
short  distance  from  us,  were  General  M. 
Gomez,  Brigadier-General  Zayas  and  Major 
Leoucio  Vidal,  the  rain  running  off  the  bent 
brims  of  their  sombreros  and  pouring  in  little 
streams  from  the  sleeves  of  their  coats. 

Sitting  on  a  log  by  my  side  was   Captain 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  103 

Tejedor,  attempting,  with  his  customary  good 
humor,  to  keep  lighted  my  old  pipe. 

Night  was  fast  approaching,  yet  during  all 
that  long  day,  and  after  a  march  of  fifteen 
leagues,  not  a  morsel  of  food  had  passed  our 
lips.  That  morning  we  had  reached  Mana- 
jauabo,  happy  at  the  prospect  of  a  day's  rest. 
A  few  minutes  later  the  storm  had  set  in, 
shattering  all  our  hopes. 

"Here,  take  y our  pipe,  "  said  Tejedor,  hand 
ing  me  the  old  veteran.  "I've  used  every 
match  I  had  trying  to  keep  it  lighted.  Haven't 
you  anything  to  eat?  I'm  nearly  starved." 

"Get  up,  you  lazy  rascal,  and  see  if  there's 
not  a  piece  of  cold  meat  in  one  of  the  saddle 
bags, "  I  shouted  to  Raphael,  my  orderly,  who 
arose  with  a  look  of  reproach  and  terror  in  his 
eyes. 

"There  is  half  an  ear  of  roasted  corn  in 
mine,  Raphael,"  said  Tejedor,  bending  his 
head  to  let  fall  the  little  pool  of  water  which 
every  few  minutes  formed  on  the  crown  of  his 
Panama  hat.  "You  can  take " 


104  IX   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

"Hello!  what's  the  row  now?''  I  exclaimt-el, 
as  El  Curro  stood  out  from  beside  Genera] 
Gomez  and  placed  his  bugle  to  his  lips. 

The  next  instant  I  had  my  answer,  "prepar 
atory  call,"  sounding  clearly  and  loudly  above 
the  uproar. 

"Hurry  up  there,  naphael!  Drop  those 
bags  and  saddle  Senator  Sherman!  Quick, 
now!"  I  exclaimed. 

Without  a  murmur  the  faithful  darky  sprang 
up  and  darted  into  the  tall,  wet  grass,  now  full 
of  rapidly  moving  men,  all  bent  on  the  same 
errand.  A  minute  later  he  appeared,  leading 
my  horse,  who,  with  his  drooping  ears  and 
little  yellow  bod}'  dripping  wet,  was  the  picture 
of  mute  but  earnest  protest. 

"Where  under  the  sun  is  the  Old  Man 
sending  us  to?"  groaned  Tejedor,  as  ho 
superintended  the  equipping  of  his  mount. 

"It  must  be  on  some  important  mission 
Vidal  is  going,  "I  answered,  noticing  that  our 
favorite  officer  was  buckling  on  his  belt. 

"Captain  Tejedor,  you're  wanted  by  the  geii- 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  105 

eral"  exclaimed  an  aid  splashing  up  through 
the  mud. 

"Hurry  back  and  let  me  know  the  news,"  I 
shouted  after  him  as  he  hastened  to  the  gen 
eral. 

"Good  news.  And  you're  going  along. 
Are  you  ready  ?"  he  exclaimed  a  minute  later 
all  in  one  breath. 

"I've  been  ready  for  the  last  five  minutes; 
but  where  are  we  bound  that  it  causes  you  such 
joy?"  I  replied. 

"We're  going  to  enter  Santa  Clara  and  at 
tack  the  arsenal.  General  Gomez  is  sending 
six  hundred  men  under  Major  Vidal.  We 
leave  at  once.  General  Luque  is  in  charge  of 
the  town,  and  has  fifteen  hundred  men  with 
him;  it  will  be  great  sport,"  he  answered. 
"My  orderly  is  sick,  so  you'll  have  to  take  his 
place, ' '  he  added,  turning  to  Raphael,  \vhose 
face  underwent  a  rapid  change  from  indiffer 
ence  to  abject  fright. 

Here  was  news  sure  enough.  Santa  Clara  is 
the  capital  of  Las  Villas,  and  the  war  station 


106          IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

and  stronghold  of  the  Spaniards  in  that  district. 
In  a  moment  my  hunger  and  fatigue  vanished, 
and  I  impatiently  awaited  the  second  call. 

Six  hundred  strong  \ve  fell  in,  two  lines  of 
hungry,  dirty,  dripping  men. 

''Soldiers  of  Cuba,"  said  General  Zayas, 
after  he  had  inspected  the  force,  "the  general 
tails  on  you  to-night  for  another  proof  of  your 
valor  and  patriotism.  You  are  going  to  attack 
Santa  Clara,  and  General  Gomez  relies  on  you 
all." 

A  wild  hurrah  was  his  answer,  and  the  troop 
rode  off  in  columns  of  two. 

The  rain  had  now  ceased,  and  the  last  rays 
of  the  sinking  sun  shone  brightly  through  the 
damp  atmosphere. 

Major  Tidal,  Tejedor  and  I  rode  side  In 
side,  talking  about  the  coming  attack,  which 
was  to  be  the  most  audacious  piece  of  work 
ever  attempted  by  the  Cuban  army. 

A  north  wind  had  sprung  up,  clearing  the 
sky  and  promising  a  cold  night. 

"Take    this  jacket,  captain,"   said  Tidal  to 


IN   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  107 

me;  "you're  teeth  are  chattering  like  castanets 
and  you  are  wet  to  the  skin.  I've  no  need  for 
it,  as  my  blanket  is  dry." 

I  thanked  him  and  donned  the  jacket,  which 
I  preserve  to  this  day,  a  sad  memory  of  one  of 
the  bravest  officers  who  ever  drew  a  sword  in 
the  defence  of  the  Cuban  cause.  A  few  yards 
further  on  we  halted. 

"Ride  over  to  that  hut,  captain,"  said 
Vidal,  turning  to  me,  "and  bring  Mateo  here; 
I  need  him  as  a  guide." 

Putting  spurs  to  my  horse,  I  soon  reached 
the  dilapidated  shanty,  and  knocking  on  the 
door,  called  for  Mateo,  who,  although  it  was 
but  seven  o'clock,  had  retired  for  the  night. 

"Easy,  now.  You'll  knock  down  the  house 
with  your  hammering, ' '  exclaimed  a  gruff 
voice  from  within,  in  answer  to  my  raps. 
"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  as  his  face 
appeared  through  a  rough  cut  in  the  wall  which 
went  by  the  name  of  window,  "I  thought  it 
was  old  Juan.  What  can  I  do  for  you?"  he 
continued,  stepping  out  into  the  open. 


108  IX    THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

"Serve  as  a  guide  for  the  force;  we  are 
going  to  Santa  Clara,"  I  answered. 

"As  guide?  My  horse  is  gone,  sir,  and  be 
side,  I  don't  know  the  road." 

"Coine  on  foot,  then,"  I  answered,  some 
what  sharply,  for  the  man  had  a  bad  reputa 
tion.  "And  brush  up  your  memory,  for 
Major  Vidal  knows  you  too  well,"  I  continued, 
as  he  followed  me  with  a  dogged  air. 

"Here's  the  man,  sir,"  said  I,  addressing 
the  major,  "but  he  says  he  doesn't  know  the 
road." 

"Doesn't  know  the  road, "  repeated  Vidal, 
"and  has  lived  here  all  his  life?  Gome- 
come.  I'll  have  none  of  that.  You  show  us 
the  way  or  you'll  regret  it;  but  be  careful  of 
any  treachery,  as  you  will  be  the  first  to  pay 
the  penalty.  Go  on,"  and  he  motioned  to  the 
man  to  lead  the  way. 

With  a  muttered  curse  Mateo  started  down 
the  road,  walking  between  Tejedor  and  myself. 

"I  want  to  reach  the  east  entrance  by  eight 
o'clock,"  said  Vidal. 


IN    THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  100 

"I'll  do  my  best,"  answered  the  man,  in  a 
sullen  tone. 

His  "best"  proved  to  be  what  was  required, 
and  a  few  minutes  before  the  hour  we  came  in 
view  of  the  guarded  entrance. 

"The  horses  will  be  left  here,"  ordered 
Yidal. 

I  passed  the  word  for  Raphael,  who  shortly 
appeared,  much  alarmed  by  his  proximity  t;> 
the  Spaniards. 

"Don't  you  dare  move  from  this  place,"  I 
said,  shaking  his  arm  by  way  of  impressing 
upon  his  mind  my  orders.  "Take  good  care 
of  the  horses,  now." 

"And  see  that  nothing  is  lost,"  added  Teje- 
dor.  "It  cost  me  a  blanket  the  last  time  we 
entered  a  town,  and  I'll  have  none  of  that  this 
time." 

"Do  you  hear?"  I  exclaimed,  desperate  at 
the  look  of  fright  on  his  face. 

"Ye — es,  sir,"  came  the  trembling  answer. 

"If  he  wasn't  the  best  cook  in  the  squadron 
I'd  send  him  about  his  business,"  I  said, 


110  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

mournfully,  taking  an  extra  hitch  in  my 
belt. 

"It's  fifteen  minutes  past  eight,  and  nine 
o'clock  is  the  time  set  for  the  attack.  The  sol 
diers  must  be  all  retiring  for  the  night  by  this 
time,"  said  Tidal,  coming  up,  "so  the  nearer 
we  are  when  the  hour  strikes  the  better.  Lead 
the  way,  Mateo. " 

It  was  black  as  pitch,  and  each  man  held  on 
to  the  one  ahead  of  him,  as  softly  and  without 
the  slightest  sound  we  followed  the  guide. 

After  five  minutes'  walk  we  suddenly  halted, 
and  the  click  of  a  wire  fence  being  cut  broke 
the  silence.  Then  forward  again. 

"Pass  the  order  for  the  men  to  lie  flat  on 
the  ground, "  whispered  Vidal,  showing  the 
example. 

Ugh!  but  it  was  disagreeable,  crawling  like 
snakes  through  the  mud  and  water,  encum 
bered  by  a  rifle  and  machete.  So  close  were 
we  to  one  another  that  several  times  Yidal's 
boots  touched  my  face  as  he  dragged  himself 
along.  It  seemed  ages  to  me  before  the  out- 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.          Ill 

lines  of  the  fort  appeared  and  we  heard  the 
measured  tread  of  the  guard. 

Slowly  and  painfully  we  went,  until  just 
abreast  of  the  fort  we  stopped.  Tejedor  was 
a  little  ahead  of  me,  and  as  I  edged  up  I 
noticed  that  he  was  close  to  the  guide. 

"Get  on  the  other  side  of  him, "  he  whis 
pered.  "Vidal  has  gone  ahead.  We  must 
wait. 

With  another  effort  I  reached  the  man's 
side,  whose  face  could  barely  be  discerned,  so 
dark  was  the  night. 

Crouching  on  the  ground,  we  could  plainly 
hear  the  voices  of  the  soldiers  inside  the  fort 
mingling  with  the  soft  notes  of  a  guitar. 
Overhead,  the  sentry  stamped  his  feet  to  keep 
them  warm  and  hummed  a  tune. 

Now  and  then  the  sharp,  long  call  of  a  locust 
would  be  taken  up  by  its  fellows,  until  the 
plains  seemed  alive  with  them,  the  sound 
dying  out  in  a  long,  faint  whistle. 

Soon  the  clock  in  the  church  solemnly  rang 
out  the  hour  of  nine.  Simultaneously  there 


ll:i  IN   THE   SADDLK    WITH    GOMEZ. 

came  from  the  arsenal  a  sharp,  rapid  bugle- 
call,  which  was  taken  up  from  several  parts  of 
the  town. 

"You  wretch!  you've  betrayed  us, "  whis 
pered  Tejedor,  as  he  grasped  the  guide  by  the 
throat. 

"No — no;  it's  the  'silence  call, '  "  answered 
the  man,  half  choked. 

Almost  before  he  had  finished,  and  with 
such  suddenness  that  my  heart  seemed  to  leap 
into  my  throat,  the  sentry  called  out : 

"Nine  o'clock;  all's  well!  S-i-1-e-n-c-e !" 
The  call  was  repeated  all  around  the  fortifica 
tions,  seeming  as  if  it  would  never  cease. 

"All's  well,  eh?  Just  wait  a  minute  and 
see  if  it  is,"  muttered  Tejedor. 

The  ground,  which  a  short  while  before  had 
felt  so  soft,  was  fast  becoming  to  my  aching 
body  unbearably  hard  as  I  vainly  tried  to  find 
a  comfortable  position.  And,  to  add  to  my 
discomfort,  it  was  getting  bitterly  cold. 

A  few  moments  later  Tejedor  pulled  my 
sleeve  and  started  ahead,  but  this  time  with 


IX    THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  113 

bad    juck,  for    hardly  had    we    gone    ten   feet 
when — 

"Alto!  Quien  va?"  rang  out. 

"Cuba  Libre!"  answered  Tejedor.  "For 
ward,  men — forward!"  he  cried. 

The  sharp,  whip-like  snap  of  the  Mauser 
rang  out,  followed  by  another  and  another, 
and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  the  town 
was  in  an  awful  uproar,  the  shouts  of  men  and 
the  crack  of  musketry  coming  from  every 
quarter. 

Never  hesitating,  we  rushed  blindly  for 
ward.  I  tripped  on  a  root  and  fell  flat  on  my 
face.  In  a  second  I  was  up  and  on  again. 
We  could  see,  by  the  flash  of  guns,  dark  fig 
ures  darting  about  as  the  surprised  Spaniards 
hastily  formed  in  the  streets.  Volley  after 
volley  came  from  the  houses ;  stones,  sticks — 
everything — seemed  to  drop  from  above. 

As  we  turned  a  corner  into  the  main  street 
there  leaped  from  across  the  way  a  tongue  of 
fire,  followed  by  the  rattle  of  a  Gatling  gun  i.js 
it  belched  forth  its  missiles.  Never  had  I 


114  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

heard  the  air  so  alive  with  bullets.  They 
seemed  everywhere,  dropping  from  the  walls 
at  our  back,  ripping  and  ricochetting  along  the 
ground,  hissing  and  moaning  as  they  tore  by. 
From  the  windows  above,  the  flash  of  rifles  re 
vealed  the  crouching  figures  of  the  Spaniards 
loading  and  firing.  Bugle  calls  and  orders  now 
and  then  sounded  faintly  amid  the  thundering 
uproar.  The  night  was  thick  with  sulphurous 
smoke  and  dust  from  the  flying  bits  of  mortar, 
while  overhead  the  funereal  notes  of  the  church 
bell  rang  out  their  warning. 

Another  volley  came  from  the  barricade, 
causing  us,  as  it  swept  down  the  street,  to  flat 
ten  ourselves  against  the  walls  of  the  houses. 

No  wonder  we  hesitated  to  advance  into  that 
storm  of  lead  and  death ;  the  strongest  heart 
quailed  at  the  idea.  Retreat  seemed  our  only 
hope,  when  down  the  street  came  a  hatless, 
shouting  figure.  Once  more  the  gun  vomited 
forth  its  cruel  welcome,  but  from  the  midst  of 
the  smoke  arose  the  cry  of  "Forward,  boys! 
Down  with  them!  To  the  arsenal!  For- 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  115 

ward!"  and  poor  Vidal  darted  past  ns  as  he 
led  the  way  to  victory  and  glory. 

Like  one  man  we  followed,  and  before  the 
Spaniards  fired  again  we  had  leaped  their  bar 
ricade,  blindly  and  desperately  hewing  and 
cutting  our  way  through  their  ranks. 

Never  stopping,  we  ran  down  the  street,  anx 
ious  to  reach  the  square  before  the  enemy  had 
turned  and  trained  their  guns.  Once  more  it 
roared,  and  with  a  cry  of  rage  and  despair  brave 
Vidal  fell  headlong  upon  the  cathedral  steps. 

The  blaze  of  many  burning  houses  now  illu 
minated  the  square,  from  which  the  defeated 
Spaniards  were  rapidly  retreating.  General 
Luque  stood  on  the  balcony  of  the  theatre, 
giving  orders  to  the  aides  by  his  side.  De 
spairingly  he  waved  his  arms. 

Grasping  his  "Winchester,  Tejedor  leveled 
it  and  fired  at  the  Spanish  chief.  The  bugler 
at  his  side  fell,  and  slipping  through  the  rails, 
picthed  into  the  street.  That  was  enough, 
and  General  Luque  turned  and  vanished  into 
the  house. 


11C  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

Little  by  little  the  firing  ceased,  and,  un 
molested,  the  men  turned  to  pillage  the  well- 
filled  warehouses.  Cigar  stores,  clothing  es 
tablishments,  groceries — every  available  place 
— was  broken  into  and  ransacked,  and  ere  long 
the  flames  of  over  threescore  houses  lighted 
the  scene  of  destruction. 

For  hours  the  work  continued ;  then  as  the 
first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  pierced  the  smoke- 
shrouded  atmosphere,  the  call  of  "assembly" 
sounded,  giving  the  signal  for  retreat. 

Loaded  with  every  kind  of  portable  and  use 
ful  article,  the  men  obeyed,  never  heeding  or 
returning  the  scattered  farewell  shots  of  the 
hidden  enemy. 

"What  did  you  take?"  asked  Tejedor,  as 
we  reached  our  horses. 

"Three  boxes  of  cigars  and  sixty  packages 
of  cigarettes.  And  you?" 

"A  jar  of  preserves,  a  pair  of  shoes  and  a 
box  of  soap, ' '  answered  he,  winding  his  hand 
kerchief  around  his  wounded  wrist.  He  had 
chanced  to  get  in  the  way  of  a  Mauser  bullet. 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 


IX. 

A   DINNER   THAT    COST   US    DEAR. 

"Tms  is  more  than  I  can  stand,  Ernest," 
said  Captain  Cueto  to  Colonel  E.  Fonts. 
"Here  we  are  within  three  miles  of  old  Deme- 
trio's  place  and  hungry  as  wolves,  yet  you  re 
fuse  to  accept  the  invitation  to  his  dinner. 
» 

And  you  know  what  kind  of  a  dinner  he  always 
gives  us. " 

"Oh,  don't  be  cranky,  even  if  you  are  the 
commanding  officer, "  said  I,  in  turn.  "Come 
along.  The  men  will  be  safe  with  the  ser 
geant,  and  we  will  be  back  by  ten." 

"Now,  look  here,  you  fellows,"  answered 
Ernest.  "Don't  you  suppose  I'm  as  anxious 
for  a  square  meul  as  you  all  are?  Demetrio 
said,  when  he  invited  us  this  morning,  that  a 
troop  of  Spanish  cavalry  had  been  hovering 


118          IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

around  his  place  at  daybreak,  and  I  don't  care 
to  lose  my  head  for  a  dinner. ' ' 

"All  the  more  reason  that  they  should  not 
be  there  this  afternoon, "  I  interrupted.  "Ah, 
come  along,  Ernest,"  I  continued,  laying  my 
hand  upon  his  arm.  "Our  horses  are  in  good 
trim,  and  if  the  worst  comes  we  can  make  a 
run  for  it." 

Slowly  we  rode  down  the  road,  the  two  or 
derlies  a  short  distance  ahead  acting  as  scouts, 
and  we  finally  came  in  sight  of  old  Demetrio's 
house,  a  plain,  two-story  affair,  surrounded 
by  a  high  hedge.  In  the  good  old  days  of 
prosperity  our  host  had  been  numbered  among 
the  cattle  kings  of  that  district,  but  war  and  its 
ravages  had  greatly  impoverished  him.  He  was 
a  man  of  about  forty -three  years  of  age,  tall 
and  well  knit. 

"Well,  boys,"  he  explained,  as  we  dis 
mounted.  "I'm  glad  to  see  you.  The  place 
is  kind  of  lonely  since  the  family  left  for  the 
city,  Pancho  and  I  being  all  alone,  but  I  guess 
we  will  manage  to  enjoy  a  good  meal  just  the 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  119 

same.  Better  tie  your  horses  to  the  hedge, " 
be  added. 

"  \Yhy  ?  Heard  any  bad  news?"  queried 
Cueto,  tilting  his  chair  against  the  wall. 

"No,  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary,  except 
that  Captain  Garrido  and  his  guerrillas  were 
around  here  this  morning,  but  he's  far  away 
by  this  time." 

"I  think, "  said  Fonts,  "the  orderlies  had 
better  mount  guard  out  on  the  road.  How 
about  that,  Demetrio?" 

"Not  a  lad  idea;  it's  always  good  to  be  pre 
pared.  Just  make  yourselves  comfortable  and 
I'll  go  out  and  station  them, "  answered  De 
metrio,  as  he  left  the  house. 

"Well,  now,  that  that's  all  fixed, "  said  he, 
a  minute  later  re-entering  the  room;  "what's 
the  matter  with  us  all  getting  down  to  work? 
Here,  Pancho,  bring  in  the  dinner,  and  you 
men  draw  up  your  chairs." 

A  young  pig,  roasted  after  the  fashion  of 
the  country,  had  just  been  carved,  and  at  the 
very  moment  when  I  was  in  the  act  of  swallow- 


I'.'O  IN    THK   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

ing  a  dainty  morsel  the  report  of  a  gun  rang 
out. 

"What's  the  matter?"   we  all  cried. 

''The  Spaniards — 'they  are  coining  do\vn 
both  roads,"  our  orderlies  answered. 

"Confound  it.  I  knew  that  would  happen. 
Hurry  up,  we  may  have  time  to  escape  to 
horse,"  exclaimed  Fonts,  rushing  out  of  the 
house. 

Too  late,  for  hardly  had  we  reached  the 
hedge  when  the  enemy  came  in  sight  and  a 
rain  of  bullets  rilled  the  air. 

"Get  the  horses  in  the  house, "  I  shouted. 
"Close  the  windows  and  doors,  Demetrio. 
For  God's  sake,  hurry."  The  last  to  Cueto, 
who  had  commenced  to  return  the  tire. 

Driving  the  horses  into  the  dining  room, 
we  closed  and  barricaded  the  door. 

"I  knew  it,  I  knew  it!"  exclaimed  Fonts. 
"This  meal  will  cost  us  our  lives  yet.  Here 
we  are  caught  like  a  lot  of  rats  in  a  trap;  you 
boys  would " 

"Manuel,  tie   the  horses    to    the   hammock 


IX   THE    SADDLF.    WITH    GOMEZ.  121 

rings.  Spare  the  ammunition,  boys,  and  aim 
carefully,"  cried  Fonts.  "Good  for- you,  De- 
metrio, "  he  continued,  as  the  latter  drew  from 
under  the  cupboard  a  carbine  and  several  car 
tridges. 

13 y  this  time  the  enemy  had  surrounded  the 
hor.se,  and  the  pit-pat  of  the  bullets  striking 
the  stone  walls  sounded  in  rapid  succession. 

We  were  in  all,  counting  Demetrio  and  his 
servant,  seven  able-bodied  men,  six  armed 
with  rifles.  The  attacking  force  amounted  to 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty,  but  they  were  out 
in  the  open.  The  question  was  which  would 
hold  out  the  longer,  the  Spaniards  or  our 
ammunition. 

There  was  only  one  weak  spot  in  our  fortifi 
cation,  namely,  the  door  through  which  tho 
Mauser  bullets  bored  their  way  with  anything 
but  a  pleasant  sound.  A  window  looked  out 
from  each  side  of  the  house  except  on  that  of 
the  entrance,  but  upstairs  a  small  round  aper 
ture  overcame  that  difficulty,  and  there  De 
metrio  and  his  man  posted  themselves. 


122          IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

For  over  two  hours  we  held  our  own  without 
loss.  Then  Cueto's  horse,  shot  through  the 
chest,  broke  loose  in  his  dying  struggles,  and, 
staggering  and  kicking,  overturned  the  table. 
The  rest  of  the  horses  snapping  their  bridles 
in  mad  terror,  reared  and  plunged  about  the 
smoke-clouded  room.  Leaning  against  the 
wall  was  Cueto,  knotting  a  handkerchief 
around  his  head,  which  had  been  grazed  by  a 
bullet.  Fonts,  oblivious  of  everything  but  the 
enemy,  was  aiming  and  firing  through  the 
window,  while  anon  the  crack  of  Demetrio's 
rifle  came  from  overhead. 

After  several  attempts  the  horses  were 
quieted,  and  the  wounded  ones  put  out  of  their 
misery;  but  our  situation  was  «o  hopeless  that 
for  the  first  time  during  the  war  a  feeling  that 
all  was  over  took  possession  of  me.  To  add  to 
our  hopelessness  night  was  close  at  hand. 

As  I  looked  on  the  scene  and  realized  the 
plight  to  which  our  foolhardiness  had  brought 
us,  a  cry  of  pain  came  from  above,  followed 
by  the  sound  of  a  falling  body.  A  moment 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  123 

later  Panclio  came  down  the  stairs  carrying 
Demetrio. 

For  a  while  no  one  spoke. 

"You  take  his  place,  Eobert,  and  Panclio 
will  help  you,"  said  Fonts  presently. 

But  as  he  spoke  there  came  through  the 
door,  with  an  angry  snarl,  poor  Robert's  fatal 
bullet,  and  without  a  moan  my  servant  dropped 
dead. 

At  that  instant,  as  if  mocking  our  situation, 
the  sun  sank  below  the  horizon  and  darkness 
set  in. 

"For  God's  sake,  Cueto,  look  sharp  and  go 
upstairs,  or  they  will  have  us, ' '  shouted  Fonts. 

"I  can't,"  moaned  the  poor  boy.  "My  leg 
is  shot  through.  I  can  hardly  stand." 

"I'll  go,  sir,"  anwered  Pancho,  rising  from 
the  side  of  Demetrio' s  body. 

"How  many  rounds  have  you,  Cueto?"  I 
asked,  after  finding  that  twenty-three  was  all 
that  remained  to  me. 

"Fourteen,"  he  faintly  replied. 

"Winch,  added   to   my   eleven,  makes   just 


12-1  IX    THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

forty-eight.  Something  must  be  done  and 
quickly,  or  we  are  all  dead  men,"  exclaimed 
Fonts  hoarsely. 

The  enemy  now  ceased  tiring.  We  blessed 
the  breathing  spell, 

Never  shall  I  forget  that  picture.  Font's 
handsome  face,  hidden  beneath  the  coating  of 
dirt  and  black,  appeared  hideous  through  the 
gloom  ;  his  eyes  flashing  with  the  light  of  a 
caged  and  frantic  animal.  Cueto,  weak  from 
the  loss  of  blood,  half  sat,  half  reclined  against 
the  overturned  table.  Strewn  all  around  were 
remnants  of  our  dinner,  broken  chairs  and 
shattered  crockery ;  stretched  across  the  mid 
dle  of  the  room  was  the  carcass  of  the  dead 
horse,  while  to  add  to  our  wretchedness,  the 
air  was  inconceivably  hot  and  stifling,  bitter 
with  the  taste  of  burned  powder. 

"Now,  this  is  my  plan,'  said  Fonts,  in  a 
voice  that  cracked  harshly  over  his  parched 
tongue.  "The  next  time  they  stop  firing  I 
will  drop  out  of  the  window  and  attempt  to 
steal  through  their  lines.  If  successful,  once 


IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  125 

I  reach  the  other  side  I  will  fire  my  revolver. 
They,  thinking  that  some  new  force  is  attack 
ing,  will  rush  toward  the  sound.  Then,  seize 
your  opportunity,  and  make  your  escape  with 
Cueto.  It  is  a  desperate  risk,  but  our  only 
hope." 

At  the  mention  of  Cueto's  name,  I  turned 
just  in  time  to  see  him  drop  slowly  to  the 
ground,  where  he  lay  moaning  and  bleeding  to 
death.  Instantly  wo  rushed  to  help  him ;  but 
before  we  reached  his  side  there  came  from 
overhead  a  cry  of  warning : 

"They're  coming  on  again,  all  bunched  for 
the  door, ' '  cried  Pancho,  opening  fire  on  the 
advancing  mass. 

We  hurried  back  to  our  places  and  once 
more  the  fight  raged.  For  awhile  the  enemy 
faced  our  volleys,  then  fortune  smiled  upon  us 
and  they  retreated  with  their  wounded. 

"Now  is  my  chance,"  muttered  Fonts, 
springing  to  the  window-ledge. 

"Go  easy  and  be  careful,"  I  cried,  and  witlj 


126  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

a  farewell  nod  he  dropped  to  the  ground  and 
disappeared. 

"God,  I'm  dying!"  moaned  poor  Cueto,  as 
I  raised  him  from  the  floor. 

Hastily  calling  the  men,  I  bade  one  hold  my 
horse  while  I  mounted,  and  then  pass  up 
Cueto,  now  all  but  a  corpse.  Gently  as  possi 
ble  I  placed  him  on  the  front  of  my  saddle, 
and  encircled  his  body  with  my  arm. 

"Now,  stand  ready  to  open  the  door  when 
you  hear  the  signal.  Then  follow  me,  and 
each  man  for  himself,"  I  ordered. 

In  that  dark  and  smoke-filled  chamber  of 
death,  and  with  my  heart  beating  like  a  sledge 
hammer,  I  sat  my  horse  and  waited. 

No  noise  disturbed  the  appalling  silence 
save  the  hard  breathing  of  the  horses  and  an 
occasional  groan  from  Ceuto.  Suddenly  Cueto 
opened  his  eyes.  His  trembling  fingers 
sought  and  closed  over  my  hand,  and  he 
faintly  murmured : 

"Good-by,  old  man.  God — bless — you. 
Don't  —  let  —  them  —  have  —  my  —  body. 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH  GOMEZ.         127 

Well — "  A  rush  of  blood  filled  his  mouth, 
his  body  heaved  and  struggled  in  its  last 
agony.  As  I  stopped  and  kissed  his  cold 
cheek  there  sounded  four  rapid  shots. 

Back  swung  the  door  and  out  leaped  my 
horse,  followed  by  the  two  orderlies.  Straight 
for  the  gate  I  rode.  Then,  as  the  firing  came 
from  the  left,  I  turned  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion,  and  digging  spurs  into  my  horse,  rode 
for  my  life. 

The  clatter  of  hoofs  warned  the  enemy  of  our 
ruse,  but  save  for  a  few  scattering  shots  it  was 
too  late  for  them  to  act,  and  we  soon  were  out 
of  danger. 

An  hour  later  Fonts  and  I  sat  in  front  of 
our  campfire.  Beneath  a  tree,  and  covered  by 
his  blanket,  lay  all  that  remained  of  our  com 
rade,  while  in  the  distance  the  flames  of  De- 
metrio's  house  leaped  high  in  the  air. 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 


A   GUERRILLA   BATTLE. 

ONE  bright,  sunny  afternoon  in  the  mouth 
of  March,  a  body  of  some  one  hundred  and 
fifty  Cuban  cavalrymen  might  have  been  seen 
wending  their  way  slowly  across  the  sabanas 
of  Cieufuegos,  eastward  bound. 

One  could  see  at  a  glance  that  these  were 
hardened  veterans.  Unshaven  faces,  long  hair 
and  dirty,  ragged  clothes,  stain '-M!  by  the  clay- 
colored  dust  of  the  western  provinces ;  tattered 
and  bullet-pierced  sombreros,  thin  and  worn 
horses,  made  a  sinister  and  gloomy  picture,  lit 
by  the  occasional  glimmer  of  a  polished  and 
ever-ready  rifle. 

The  little  force  rode  in  two  groups,  a  squad 
of  twenty-five  men,  about  two  hundred  yards 
in  advance,  acting  as  a  vanguard.  At  the  head 


IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          129 

of  the  main  body,  on  a  large  black  horse,  rode 
a  man  about  twenty-nine  years  old;  dirty, 
tired,  but  soldierly  looking.  His  large  hat, 
bored  in  three  places  by  bullets,  flapped  in  the 
gentle  breeze ;  around  his  neck  a  blood-stained 
bandage  marked  a  recent  wound,  while  a  strap 
of  his  nickel-plated  Winchester,  as  it  hung 
across  his  shoulder,  half  hid  an  ugly  rent  in 
his  quaydbera.  Such  was  the  picture  of  Gen 
eral  B.  Zayas,  "the  bravest  of  the  brave,"  as 
he  rode  at  the  head  of  all  that  remained  of  the 
ever-famous  rear  guard  to  General  M.  Gomez's 
historic  invasion.  Among  that  band  were  men 
who  had  fought  two  hundred  times  in  sixty 
days.  Many  had  been  wounded.  Yet  they 
cared  not,  for  to  them  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
fight;  to  die,  a  foregone  and  accepted  conclu 
sion.  They  smiled  now  when  they  looked 
back  on  the  day  of  their  first  fight,  when  the 
whiz  of  bullets  had  caused  them  to  tremble 
and  lower  their  heads.  To  them  a  fight  at 
lesser  odds  than  four  to  one  was  child's  play, 
and  small  wonder  was  it  that  they  good- 


130          IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

naturedly  chaffed  the  pacifico  who  seriously 
informed  them  that  the  Lequetia  guerrilla  was 
barely  a  league  ahead. 

"How  many  did  you  say  they  were,  citi 
zen?"  inquired  Zayas,  slipping  his  feet  from 
the  stirrups  and  lazily  stretching  his  long, 
thin  legs. 

"About  three  hundred  all  told,  general," 
answered  the  pacifico,  gazing  with  undisguised 
admiration  at  the  young  giant. 

"Oh,  all  right!  Thank  you,  my  man.  For 
ward!"  he  continued,  and  the  little  cavalcade 
pushed  ahead  once  more,  amid  a  cloud  of 
slowly  rising  dust. 

The  famous  Lequetia  guerrilla,  now  a  thing 
of  the  past,  was  at  the  time  of  this  story  the 
cause  of  much  terror  and  grief.  Composed 
chiefly  of  outlaws,  negroes  and  Spaniards,  it 
foraged  on  the  neighboring  estates  and  com 
mitted  its  butcheries  unchecked.  It  had  never 
been  known  to  attack  when  evenly  matched.  Its 
custom  was  to  ambuscade  and  cut  to  pieces  small 
parties  of  a  dozen  up  to  fifty. 


Itf  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          131 

Let  it  be  said,  however,  that  among  the 
officers  of  this  band  were  men  worthy  of  a 
better  cause,  who  had  enrolled  through  love  of 
money  or  for  family  reasons ;  men  who  fought, 
imagining  that  that  was  their  duty,  and  who 
looked  with  scorn  and  disgust  at  the  savage 
actions  of  their  companions.  This  band  of 
plunderers  and  cutthroats  took  their  name  from 
a  plantation  where,  after  the  day's  foraging,  it 
was  wont  to  camp.  But  all  things  have  an 
end  in  this  world,  and  that  end  had  arrived  for 
the  Lequetia  guerrilla.  The  sun  had  sunk  to 
a  point  in  the  horizon  when  its  rays  seemed  to 
be  kissing  the  leaves  good-night.  In  the  green 
fields  the  cows  were  pasturing,  unmindful  of 
war,  and  the  wind  sighed  softly  through  the 
rustling  cane  leaves. 

" Diablo!  what  is  that?"  asked  Juan,  the 
head  scout,  to  his  companion,  lowering  his 
leg  from  where  it  lay  across  the  pummel  of  his 
saddle. 

"It  looks  like  the  glimmer  of  a  rifle  barrel," 
answered  the  other,  reining  in. 


132          IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH   GOMEZ. 

"Ride  back,  Jose,  and  inform  the  general 
that  an  ambush  has  been  placed  ahead  by  the 
enemy,"  replied  Juan. 

"Not  a  shot  is  to  be  fired,"  said  Jose,  a 
moment  later,  falling  into  his  place  as  uncon 
cerned  as  though  on  parade.  "The  general 
says  that  it  can  be  but  the  Lequetia  guerrilla. 
Not  a  shot,  but  after  their  first  volley  we  must 
charge.  He  -will  follow." 

"Bueno,  it  sounds  like  old  times.  We  have 
had  a  long  rest,  Jose,  and  my  machete  cries 
for  work." 

For  sole  reply  Jose  contented  himself  with 
loosening  in  its  scabbard  his  long  blade. 

The  word  passed  rapidly  through  the  ranks 
that  a  brush  was  imminent  with  the  enemy ; 
but  save  for  a  hasty  look  or  touch  to  their  arms 
the  men  gave  no  outward  signs  of  their  feel 
ings. 

Juan  rode  first  of  all.  Although  not  an 
officer,  he  had  made  the  entire  campaign  with 
Zayas,  and  the  latter  had  implicit  confidence 
in  his.bravery  and  skill  as  a  scout.  So  it  was, 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          133 

that  without  appearing  to  have  noticed  any 
thing,  and  entirely  ignoring  the  danger  in 
which  he  was  placed,  he  plodded  serenely 
along,  never  touching  or  urging  his  horse. 

The  highway  was  lined  on  either  side  by 
small  stumpy  trees,  about  six  feet  high,  their 
trunks  thickly  interwoven  with  the  long,  thorny 
leaves  of  piila  de  raton.  From  behind  this 
hedge  had  come  the  glimmer  which  had  caught 
Juan's  quick  eye  and  had  caused  him,  with 
his  acccustomed  shrewdness,  to  hit  upon  a 
plan  worth  two  of  theirs.  A  little  way  down 
the  road  he  had  seen  a  portillo  (such  as  run 
away  cattle  are  accustomed  to  make  in  their 
efforts  to  break  through  a  fence),  of  which  he 
had  decided  to  take  advantage,  and  thus  place 
himself  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  ambushed 
enemy.  Accordingly,  when  he  reached  the 
spot,  he  suddenly  wheeled  his  horse,  and  lead 
ing  the  way,  stepped  through  the  opening. 

For  a  moment  the  surprised  guerrilla  looked 
with  wonder  upon  this  unexpected  flank  move 
ment,  then,  noticing  the  small  number  of  the 


134          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

vanguard,  drew  their  machetes  and  scornfully 
dared  them  to  come  on.  So  easy  a  matter  did 
it  appear  to  the  guerrillas  that  only  half  of 
their  number  prepared  to  give  battle ;  the  rest 
sitting  on  their  horses  and  awaiting  what  they 
thought  would  be  the  natural  outcome  of  the 
struggle.  Little  dreamed  they  that  tfr.r"  hard 
ened  veterans  of  Pinar  del  Rio,  Havana,  aud 
Matanzas  were  to  be  their  antagonist. 

For  a  moment  both  sides  faced  o':e  another 
with  drawn  machetes,  each  waiting  for  the 
other  to  begin.  It  was,  however,  Juan's  inten 
tion  to  draw  on  the  Spaniards  and  give  time 
for  the  now  rapidly  approaching  main  body 
to  arrive,  which  idea  he  carried  oat. 

With  a  graceful  snake-like  wave  in  their  line 
alive  with  the  flashing  of  arms,  tha  Sp**v'ards 
started  slowly,  then  began  to  tret,  a.  ^  broke 
into  a  gallop  as  they  came  thunder; ng  down 
along  the  field,  shaking  the  ve;  >  earth  and 
renting  the  air  with  their  yells. 

It  was  a  situation  to  try  the  I  avest  among 
that  little  band,  yet  no  one  move<|  Here  were 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  135 

four  times  their  number  charging  toward  them, 
and  everyone  knew  that  if  the  main  body  did 
not  arrive  in  time  it  would  go  hard  with  them. 

But  Juan,  looking  over  his  shoulder,  caught 
sight  of  the  wild  features  of  Zayas  dashing 
through  the  opening  at  the  head  of  his  men, 
and  the  anxious  look  on  his  face  gave  way  to 
one  of  joy.  With  but  one  cry  of  "Al  ma 
chete!"  which  was  taken  up  by  every  soul, 
Zayas  darted  ahead,  and  ere  the  enemy  were 
aware  of  the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  both 
sides  clashed  together.  The  remaining  divi 
sion  of  Spaniards  seeing  the  plight  of  their 
fellow-companions,  hastily  formed,  and  in 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell,  flung  themselves 
into  the  fray. 

Not  a  shot  was  fired,  but  with  a  steady 
rhythmic  movement  the  blades  rose  and  fell, 
the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  playing  upon  them. 
The  clash  of  steel,  cries,  oaths,  shrieks  and 
moans  added  to  the  horror  of  the  scene.  Little 
by  little  the  swaying,  pushing,  struggling 
compact  mass  disentangled  itself  and  opened, 


136          IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

every  one  seem  ing  to  pick  out  his  opponent  and 
make  the  fight  a  personal  affair.  Many  had 
dropped  and  lay  writhing  in  their  last  agonies. 
Some  were  crawling  on  their  hands  and  knees, 
digging  their  contorted  fingers  mto  the  stony 
soil  with  the  hope  of  escaping  the  merciless 
hoofs  of  the  plunging  horses.  Just  where  the 
struggle  had  started  lay  the  body  of  a  horse, 
holding,  pinned  helplessly  to  tue  ground  his 
uuwounded  rider,  who  frantically  strove  to  free 
hjmself,  calling  loudly  for  help  to  his  com 
panions.  Around  him  circled  two  combatants. 
Nearer  and  nearer  they  came,  until  with  a  sick 
ening  thud  a  horse's  hoof  crushed  into  the 
man's  skull.  A  short  distance  away  two  men 
struggled  in  a  frantic  embrace,  each  as  he  held 
his  foe  by  the  throat,  stabbing  and  cutting. 
Astounded  at  first  by  the  bravery  of  their 
scanty  opponents,  the  Spaniards  fought  well. 
Then,  noticing  the  determination  of  tho 
Cubans  to  do  or  die,  they  broke  and  ran. 

On    one   side  of  the  road   were   two   men 
circling  around  and  around  each   other,  both 


IN  THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.          13? 

well  mounted  and  able  swordsmen.  As  they 
thrust,  parried  and  cut,  they  made  a  fascinat 
ing  sight.  Now  one  would  dash  at  his  oppo 
nent,  causing  him  to  rein  his  horse  onto  his 
haunches  in  order  to  avoid  the  fierce  assault, 
then  he  in  turn  would  charge;  and  so  it  con 
tinued,  till  they  two  alone  were  left  fighting, 
while  all  the  others  watched  them  breathlessly. 
The  Spaniard  was  a  lieutenant,  as  was  the 
Cuban.  Both  were  armed  with  Winchester 
rifles  and  machetes,  but  hitherto  they  had  only 
made  use  of  the  steel.  The  struggle  had 
lasted  for  some  time,  and  the  men  were  rapidly 
becoming  exhausted.  The  Spaniard,  being 
alone  among  the  Cubans,  could  easily  have 
been  overpowered  and  captured,  and  in  that 
manner  an  end  be  put  to  the  duel.  But  Zayas 
was  not  the  one  to  deny  a  valiant  foe  fair  play, 
and  accordingly  kept  at  a  distance  awaiting  the 
outcome.  The  men  were  now  facing  one 
another,  their  horses  head  to  head,  each  as  he 
momentarily  rested  eying  his  opponent, 
watchful  of  his  every  movement.  Suddenly 


138          IN  THE  SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

the  Cuban  dug  his  spurs  into  his  charger,  and 
driving  the  point  of  his  weapon  into  the  nose 
of  the  Spaniard's  horse,  caused  the  brute  to 
lower  his  head  for  a  moment.  In  this  moment 
he  slashed  fairly  at  his  enemy's  chest.  Taken 
by  surprise  and  somewhat  thrown  oft'  his 
guard  by  the  sudden  movement  of  his  horse, 
the  Spaniard  barely  managed  to  raise  his 
saber  in  defense.  The  blade,  receiving  the 
full  force  of  the  blow,  parted  as  if  made  of 
lead,  and  before  he  could  recover  and  wheel  his 
horse  the  Cuban  dashed  by,  thrusting  to  the 
rear  as  he  did  so  and  wounding  his  antagonist 
between  the  shoulder  blades.  The  blood 
spurted  in  a  great  stream,  and  it  looked  as  if 
the  fight  were  at  an  end. 

But  not  so.  Like  a  flash  the  Spaniard 
grasped  his  unloaded  rifle  by  the  barrel,  and, 
as  his  enemy  returned  to  the  attack,  struck  hir.i 
a  mighty  blow  upon  the  hip.  Over  into  tL<- 
pummel  of  the  saddle  went  the  victim,  blindly 
swinging  his  machete  as  he  fell  from  his  horse. 

A  hastv  examination  showed  two  ribs  broken 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  139 

and  before  the  doctor  had  finished  bandaging 
him  the  lieutenant  was  inquiring  about  his 
plucky  opponent. 

"Dono  for,  I'm  afraid.  That  last  thrust  of 
yours  caught  him  squarely  beneath  the  arm,  and 
he  can't  live  thirty  minutes,"  said  General 
Zayas,  grasping  the  lieutenant's  hand. 

With  a  grimace  of  pain  the  young  man  rose 
and  limped  over  to  where  his  less  fortunate 
adversary  lay  dying.  As  he  reached  the  man's 
side  the  Spaniard  opened  his  eyes  and,  smiling 
grimly,  whispered : 

"You  were  a  little  too  quick  for  me,  but  luck 
favored  you.  Tlo.  Lift  me  up. " 

"Are  you  in  much  pain?"  sympathetically 
asked  the  Cuban,  placing  the  Spaniard's  head 
on  a  roll  of  blankets,  and  striving  to  stay  the 
flow  of  blood  with  a  wet  rag. 

"No — not  much.  My  time  is  up,  though," 
said  the  other,  sinking  back  exhausted  upon 
the  blankets. 

At  that  moment,  as  if  heralding  the  depart- 


140  IN   THE    SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

ure  of  a  brave  man's  soul,  the  bugle  sounded 
" boots  and  saddles." 

At  the  sound  the  dying  man  sat  up,  a  thou 
sand  confused  fancies  crowding  at  his  brain 
and  throbbing  at  his  heart.  He  saluted,  and 
muttered : 

"A  caballo,  seflores,  a  caballo." 

So  died,  unthought  of  and  forgotten  by  his 
former  companions,  one  of  the  bravest  men 
who  ever  drew  a  saber  in  defense  of  the 
Spanish  ensign. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  141 


XI. 

THE   KING'S   BIRTHDAY. 

AMONG  all  the  many  daring  deeds  of  the  late 
General  Aranguren  his  capture  of  Fort  Isabel 
undoubtedly  ranks  foremost  of  all.  Up  to  the 
time  of  this  event  he  was  but  one  of  the  many 
young  men  struggling  for  General  Gomez's 
approval,  after  this,  however,  his  career  was 
assured. 

Recently  promoted  to  the  grade  of  captain, 
he  was  constantly  on  the  lookout  for  an  action 
which  would  earn  him  another  star  and  make 
the  Cuban  forces  ring  with  his  name.  Like  all 
men  of  his  class,  he  did  not  know  fear,  and  the 
danger  of  death  was  never  an  obstacle  in  his 
path. 

A  few  miles  distant  from  Las  Cruces,  and 
protecting  the  railroad  bridge,  was  Fort  Isabel, 
garrisoned  by  Captain  Garrido  and  twenty-five 


142  IN   THE    SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

Spanish  soldiers.  Arangureu  and  Garrido 
were  friends  of  old  but  they  never  neglected  an 
opportunity  to  match  their  strength.  About 
six  weeks  previously  to  this  story  the  Spanish 
officer  had  been  captured  by  Arangureu.  Dur 
ing  his  stay  in  the  Cuban  camp  Garrido  was 
warned  by  Arangureu  against  being  so  careless. 

"For,"  he  said,  "I  am  only  setting  you 
free  so  as  to  be  able  to  capture  you  again. 
The  next  time,  however,  you  will  be  my  guest 
in  your  house." 

The  following  day  Garrido  was  returned, 
unharmed,  to  his  fort. 

Several  weeks  went  by,  and  then  Arauguren's 
opportunity  arrived. 

It  was  a  well-known  fact  in  the  town  of  Las 
Cruces,  and  one  which  Arangureu  had  not  been 
slow  in  finding  out,  that  Garrido  was  madly  in 
love  with  Rosita  Ceballos,  the  daughter  of  a 
wealthy  Spanish  planter.  In  fact,  his  infatu 
ation  had  gained  such  control  over  him  that  he 
frequently  neglected  his  duties  to  call  on  his 
fair  inamorata.  Nothing  was  too  good  for 


IX   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  U3 

her,  and  the  presents  which  he  had  given  her, 
were  the  talk  and  envy  of  all  the  belles  in  the 
town.  Old  Ceballos,  who  hated  the  Cubans 
and  their  cause  with  all  his  heart,  was  not  at 
all  backward  in  showing  his  approval,  and 
small  wonder  was  it  that  Garrido  allowed  him 
self  to  be  caught  napping,  when  his  cup  of  joy 
was  filled  by  Ceballos  giving  his  consent  to 
their  engagement.  Garrido  and  his  fair 
fiancee  agreed  to  announce  their  engagement  on 
the  king's  birthday,  and  to  celebrate  both  fetes 
by  a  magnificent  display  of  fireworks.  Accord 
ingly  Garrido  wrote  to  a  dealer  in  Havana  and 
gave  him  an  order  which  made  him  open  his 
eyes  and  for  a  moment  imagine  that  the  good 
times  were  returning.  Sky  rockets,  Roman 
candles,  pin  wheels,  and,  in  fact,  everything 
necessary  for  a  gorgeous  pyrotechnical  dis 
play,  were  ordered  by  the  dozens.  Such  a 
commotion  as  the  arrival  of  all  these  articles 
created  in  Las  Cruces  could  not  pass  unper- 
ceived,  and  the  town  soon  became  aware  of  the 
proposed  festivities. 


144          IN   THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

Aranguren,  always  well  informed,  at  once 
learned  of  what  was  going  on,  and  accordingly 
determined  to  act  at  once.  On  the  morning  of 
the  king's  birthday  he  camped  within  ten 
miles  of  the  fort.  After  breakfast  he  called  his 
two  officers,  Captain  Herrera  and  Lieutenant 
Poe,  and  told  them  of  his  plan.  At  sunset  he 
would  break  camp  and  march  to  within  five 
miles  of  the  fort,  where  he  intended  to  dis 
mount  his  men  and  proceed  on  foot  to  the 
attack. 

"At  that  hour,"  he  said,  "all  hands  will  be 
busily  engaged  in  preparing  for  the  fete,  and 
it  will  be  an  easy  matter  for  us  to  surprise 
them." 

Both  his  officers  agreed  with  him  on  the 
feasibility  of  the  scheme,  and  it  was  at  once 
decided  upon. 

At  five  o'clock  that  night  the  Cubans  camped 
five  miles  away  from  Fort  Isabel.  The  order 
was  given  to  have  the  horses  tethered  and  to 
form  on  foot  at  once.  The  men  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  where  they  were  bound  to,  but 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  145 

their  confidence  in  their  young  leader  was  so 
great  that  the y  would  have  followed  him  where- 
ever  he  saw  fit  to  lead. 

"I  want  twenty -five  volunteers,"  he  said, 
not  mentioning  for  what. 

The  entire  squadron  stepped  forward. 

"Well,  you  can't  all  go,  "  he  continued,  with 
a  smile.  "Captain  Herrera  and  Lieutenant 
Poe,  you  each  pick  twelve  men.  I  will  make 
the  twenty -fifth  with  my  orderly  Juan." 

It  was  a  hard  job,  that  of  choosing  from  so 
many  applicants,  but  it  was  at  last  accom 
plished,  and  a  prouder  set  of  men  never  stood 
before  their  commander.  Every  one  of  them 
could  be  counted  upon  to  perform  his  duty, 
and  Aranguren  realized  that  as  he  looked  them 
over. 

"Eight  forward,  fours  right,"  and  much  to 
every  man's  surprise,  they  started  out  of  camp 
on  foot. 

As  such  things  will,  the  nature  of  our  expe 
dition  soon  leaked  out,  and  many  were  the 
jests  made  at  the  expense  of  the  gringoes.  An 


14C  IN   THE    SAD'H.E    WITH    GOMEZ. 

Lour  of  rapid  marching  brought  them  within 
sight  of  the  fort,  ami  the  order  to  halt  was 
given. 

The  sun  had  already  gone  down  and  dark 
ness  was  setting  in.  The  lamps  were  being 
lighted  in  Ceballo's  house,  and  the  preparations 
for  the  evening  entertainment  were  far  ad 
vanced.  Here  and  there  the  forms  of  the 
Spanish  soldiers  moved  hurriedly  about,  and 
occasionally  the  voice  of  Garrido  giving  an 
order  faintly  reached  Aranguren's  ears. 

Motioning  his  men  to  remain  where  they 
were,  Arauguren  left  them  and  advanced  to 
recounoiter.  Ten  minutes  later  he  returned. 

"The  entire  garrison,  barring  three  men,  are 
at  the  house,  "he  said.  "The  surprise  will 
be  complete,  and  I  think  that  we  will  not  bo 
forced  to  fire  a  single  shot." 

A  short  while  later,  darkness  having  set  in 
completely,  the  order  was  passed  to  advance, 
and  in  single  file  the  men  crept  forward. 

Outside  the  hut  the  Spaniards  had  stacked 
their  arms,  Aranguren  had  counted  them,  and 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   6OMEZ.          14? 

they  numbered  exactly  twenty-two.  With 
the  enemy  in  the  house,  and  their  guns  out 
side,  it  looked  as  though  the  fight  was  already 
won. 

"Surround  the  house,"  ordered  Aranguren, 
in  a  low  voice.  Hurriedly  the  men  obeyed, 
keeping  their  eyes  fixed  on  him. 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated,  and  then  stepped 
forward.  All  the  men  followed,  rushing  after 
him  like  a  pack  of  lunatics,  into  the  house, 
where,  much  to  their  surprise,  they  only  found 
Garrido  and  four  badly  frightened  Spaniards. 

"  You  had  twenty-two  men  here;  where  are 
they?"  asked  Aranguren,  after  he  had  re 
covered  from  his  surprise. 

"Gone  for  kindling  wood,  sir,"  answered 
one  of  the  men,  not  noticing  Garrido's  signal  to 
remain  quiet. 

"And  will  be  back  shortly,"  finished  Aran 
guren.  "Sorry,  Garrido,  but  I  will  be  forced 
to  bind  your  arms;  just  to  insure  your  pres 
ence  at  your  dinner.  We  will  start  at  once  if 
it  is  agreeable  to  you." 


148          IN   THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

"You  might  have  chosen  any  other  night  on 
which  to  dine  with  me  than  this  one,"  an 
swered  Garrido,  as  he  extended  his  hands  to 
one  of  the  men. 

All  this  time  Ceballos  and  his  daughter  had 
remained  silent  spectators ;  but  now  Kosita 
stepped  forward. 

"So  you  are  going  to  spoil  my,  party,  are 
you?"  she  said,  with  a  hasty  look  toward  the 
door.  "Will  you  not  wait  until  after  the  fire 
works  before  you  take  Pepeaway?  Ah,  but 
you  will,"  she  continued,  pointing  to  the  door. 

Outside  the  stack  of  arms  had  vanished. 
A  second  glance  showed  the  very  trees  alive 
with  them.  Arangureu's  position  was  a  dan 
gerous  one,  caught  in  a  trap  as  he  was,  but 
his  quick-NY ittedness  came  to  his  aid.  Catch 
ing  Garrido  by  the  arm  he  placed  him  in  front 
of  him,  and  ordering  the  men  to  follow,  started 
out  of  the  house.  With  cocked  rifles  the  men 
followed,  expecting  to  have  to  fight,  but  the 
Spaniards,  with  their  commander  thus  exposed, 
did  not  dare  to  fire. 


IN  THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.          149 

"Hurry  up!"  shouted  Aranguren,  "and 
overpower  the  men  in  the  fort.  Don't  fire 
unless  YOU  have  to." 

Herrera  at  one  shouted  to  his  men  to  follow 
him,  and  started  toward  the  fort.  The  Span 
iards  therein  saw  him  coming  and  opened  fire. 
Their  shots  went  wild,  and  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it,  the  Cubans  entered  the  fort  and 
overpowered  its  defenders.  Meanwhile  Aran 
guren  with  the  rest  of  the  men  had  nearly 
traversed  the  distance  which  separated  the 
house  from  the  fort,  and  not  a  single  shot  had 
been  fired  on  either  side.  But  now  the  Span 
iards  suddenly  changed  their  plan  and  opened 
fire,  wounding  two  of  the  Cubans. 

"Fire!  Fire  on  them!"  shouted  Aranguren. 
The  men  obeyed  and  the  enemy  retreated  to 
cover. 

Once  inside  the  fort  the  doors  were  barri 
caded,  and  each  man  assigned  to  a  post.  The 
firing  now  became  a  general  one,  and  volley 
after  volley  was  exchanged.  Fighting  as  they 
were  in  the  open,  the  Spaniards  were  at  a 


150  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

great  disadvantage,  and  they  soon  lost  several 
of  their  men,  which,  however,  did  not  seem  to 
discourage  them,  for  they  repeatedly  charged 
the  fort,  vainly  attempting  to  regain  control 
of  it.  After  an  hour  of  this  sort  of  work, 
the  Spaniards  retired  to  the  house,  which  they 
entered  after  posting  a  sentry  at  the  door. 

"They're  planning  an  attack,  and  we  must 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  to-night, ' '  said  Arau- 
guren.  "The  moon  Avill  be  up  shortly,  and 
that  will  help  us  a  great  deal.  How  many 
rounds  of  ammunition  have  we,  sergeant?" 

"One  hundred  and  three,  sir,"  answered 
the  man,  after  he  had  counted  each  man's 
supply. 

"Just  about  enough  to  resist  the  next  attack. 
I  guess  my  men  will  spoil  your  little  scheme, 
and  Rosita  will  have  her  fireworks  after  all, " 
remarked  Garrido. 

"You  keep  on  thinking  that  way  and  you 
will  be  disappointed, ' '  answered  Aranguren. 
"Sergeant,  distribute  the  ammunition  evenly, 
and  keep  a  sharp  lookout.  Every  shot  must 


IN    THK    SADDI.H    WITH    GOMEZ.  151 

be  made  to  tell  now.  Well,  what  is  it  now, 
Juan?" 

The  orderly  stooped  and  whispered  in  Aran- 
gureu's  ear. 

"By  George,  the  very  thing.  I'll  try  it," 
and  followed  by  Juan,  he  left  the  room. 

At  that  very  moment  a  shot  rang  out  from 
above.  Instantly  it  was  answered  by  a  volley 
from  outside,  followed  by  the  pit-pat  of  the 
bullets  as  they  struck  the  walls  of  the  fort. 

"They're  coming  on  again,  sir,"  cried  the 
sergeant,  looking  through  a  loophole. 

"Easy  on  the  ammunition  there,  men," 
shouted  Arangureu,  from  the  kitchen.  Here 
lend  a  hand,  my  man." 

The  enemy  were  apparently  aware  of  the 
lack  of  ammunition,  for  they  contented  them 
selves  with  firing  from  a  distance,  and  oc- 
casioually  drawing  the  Cuban's  fire  by  expos 
ing  themselves.  Meanwhile  Arauguren,  aided 
by  the  sergeant,  had  been  busy  distributing 
odd-shaped  bundles  to  each  of  the  men,  whis 
pering  an  instruction  as  he  did  so.  When  he 


152  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMKZ. 

had  finished  he  gave  the  order  to  cease 
which,  when  obeyed,  caused  the  Spaniards  to 
break  out  into  cheers.  Imagining  that  the 
Cubans  were  out  of  ammunition  they  instantly 
formed  for  a  charge,  and  at  the  order  advanced 
at  a  dog  trot,  breaking  into  a  run  as  they  neared 
the  fort.  Shouting  like  a  lot  of  maniacs  they 
swept  forward  in  a  final  and  plucky  attempt. 

"Now,"  suddenly  shouted  Aranguren,  when 
they  were  within  twenty -five  feet.  "Touch 
them  off." 

Barely  had  the  words  left  his  mouth  when 
there  followed  the  hissing  of  sky  rockets  and 
the  sputtering  of  Roman  candles.  Hundreds 
of  brightly  colored  fire  balls  shot  out  of  the 
fort  catching  the  enemy  squarely  in  the  face, 
burning  them  frightfully,  and  setting  fire  to 
their  clothing.  Half  of  the  Spaniards  fell  to 
the  ground,  where  they  rolled  in  agony,  calling 
pitifully  for  help,  deserted  by  their  comrades, 
who  took  to  their  heels,  and  who  never  stopped 
running  until  they  reached  Las  Cruces,  where 
they  informed  the  commander  that  they  had 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          153 

been  routed  "by  a  large  body  of    insurgents 
who  used  explosive  bullets." 

That  ended  the  short  fight.  The  wounded 
men  were  brought  into  their  former  home, 
where  their  wounds  were  dressed  and  an  effort 
made  to  make  them  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
and  a  messenger  was  at  once  sent  to  the  main 
body  to  report  at  the  fort.  This  they  did 
shortly  afterward. 

One  o'clock  that  night  found  five  men  and 
one  woman  seated  around  the  table  in  the  din 
ing  room  of  the  fort.  One  of  the  men  wore 
the  Spanish  uniform,  but  he  appeared 
thoroughly  at  home,  although  surrounded  by 
men  who  wore,  in  their  hats,  the  Cuban 
cockade.  The  girl,  dressed  in  orange  and 
black,  and  wearing  a  black  lace  mantilla,  had 
pinned  to  her  left  shoulder  a  large  yellow  and 
red  streamer. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Aranguren,  rising;  "let 
us  drink  to  our  host,  who  is  my  guest,  and  to 
his 


i.U  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 


XII. 

THE    BATTLE    OF   CANTABRIA. 

ONE  of  the  greatest  victories  achieved  by  the 
Cuban  array  since  the  outbreak  of  the  present 
revolution,  was  the  battle  of  Cautabria,  where 
Colonel  Alfredo  Rego,  with  eight  hundred  cav 
alrymen,  defeated  a  force  of  fifteen  hundred 
Spaniards.  Not  only  was  the  victory  a  re 
markable  one,  but  the  incidents  that  followed 
give  luster  to  the  name  of  the  Cuban  com 
mander. 

Alfredo  Rego,  then  acting  as  brigadier-gen 
eral  of  the  Cieufuegos  briagde,  was  stationed 
at  Los  Pozos,  a  small  stock  farm  about  thirty 
miles  east  of  Cienfuegos,  awaiting  orders  from 
General  Maximo  Gomez,  who  was  on  the  eve 
of  his  now  historic  march  through  the  island. 
On  November  3,  1895,  Rego  received  word 
from  the  commander-in-chief  to  notify  all 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  155 

planters  in  his  district  engaged  in  the  manu 
facture  of  sugar  to  close  their  mills  within  ten 
days.  If  the  order  was  not  obeyed  Eego  was 
to  attack  and  destroy  the  estates.  Upon  receiv 
ing  the  printed  slip  issued  by  Rego,  every 
plantation,  with  the  exception  of  Cantabria, 
closed  down.  The  insurgent  leader  waited  the 
stipulated  ten  days,  and  then  wrote  a  letter  to 
the  oAvner,  saying  that  if  his  former  order  was 
not  obeyed  within  the  next  twenty-four  hours 
the  estate  would  be  destroyed. 

"I  am  not  a  man  who  takes  pleasure  in  de 
stroying  other  pople's  property,  but  a  soldier, 
and  as  such  must  obey  the  orders  of  my 
superiors,"  he  wrote. 

The  courier  who  carried  this  final  warning 
returned  with  the  answer  that  more  than  fifteen 
hundred  Spanish  troops  were  awaiting  im 
patiently  the  visit  of  the  patriots.  Piego  at 
once  set  about  to  arrange  for  the  coming  en 
counter.  Orderlies  were  dispatched  in  every 
direction,  calling  the  various  squadrons  of  the 
brigade,  which  were  stationed  at  different 


156  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

points  in  the  district.  Ammunition  and  snoli 
extra  arms  as  could  be  obtained  were  dis 
tributed  among  the  men.  The  nick,  the 
wounded,  and  the  unarmed  men,  together  with 
the  impedimenta,  were  sent  to  the  Signanea 
Hospital.  Rations  were  distributed  for  a 
three  days'  march,  and  an  order  was  published 
notifying  the  men  of  the  coming  fight  and 
appealing  to  them  to  do  their  duty. 

On  November  15  Rego  broke  camp  at  the 
head  of  eight  hundred  fully  equipped  men,  and 
started  on  his  march  to  Cantabria.  "\Yord  of 
the  preparations  for  the  coming  attack  had 
reached  the  Spanish  commander,  and  he  was 
not  slow  in  making  ready  for  it.  The  entire 
plantation  was  surrounded  by  guards,  and 
skirmishers  were  sent  out  to  locate  the  advanc 
ing  rebels.  So  it  happened  that  Rego,  who 
had  counted  upon  allowing  his  men  to  have  a 
night's  rest  before  going  into  battle,  was 
forced  to  attack  at  once.  The  fighting  from 
the  very  start  was  fast  and  furious.  Hidden 
in  th*  dense  canefields,  where  they  could  not 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  157 

be  seen,  tlio  Spaniards  poured  a  steady  fire 
upon  the  Cubans,  llego's  men,  although  out 
numbered  and  poorly  armed  in  comparison 
•with  their  opponents,  fought  gamely.  Dur 
ing  seven  hours  the  uneven  fight  continued. 
Several  machete  charges  were  made,  but  with 
out  any  result,  as  the  horses  were  unable  to 
break  through  the  thick  brush.  The  fight  was 
going  against  the  Cubans,  who  had  lost  more 
than  one  hundred  and  thirty  men,  and  accord 
ingly  Eego  determined  upon  a  plan  which  up 
to  this  time  he  had  not  used. 

Calling  his  officers  about  him  he  gave  them 
orders  to  set  fire  to  the  canefields,  and  to  form 
all  their  men  on  the  top  of  Cantabria  hill.  A 
few  minutes  latter  the  sharp  notes  of  the  bugle 
sounded  the  retreat,  and  the  over-confident 
Spaniards  broke  out  into  cheers  at  what  they 
thought  was  the  signal  of  their  victory.  Their 
triumphant  shouts,  however,  were  soon  turned 
into  cries  of  terror,  as  the  rifle-like  crackling 
of  the  burning  sugarcane  sounded  around 
them.  The  entire  plantation  was  soon  wrapped 


158  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

in  flames.  Overhead  floated  dense  black  clouds 
of  smoke,  through  which  faintly  came  the 
sound  of  the  Spanish  bugle  and  the  cries  of 
the  panic-stricken  enemy.  Now  and  then  a 
clearing  in  the  smoke  revealed  the  Spaniards 
rushing  to  and  fro  in  their  efforts  to  answer 
the  call  of  "assembly." 

Rego  had  drawn  his  men  up  in  line  of  battle 
on  the  summit  of  the  hill.  With  their  com 
mander  at  their  head,  the  men  waited  silently 
for  the  final  struggle.  It  came  at  last.  Little 
by  little  the  wind  carried  the  smoke  and  flames 
across  the  fields.  Almost  at  the  very  brow  of 
the  hill  was  the  crippled  Spanish  force. 
Formed  in  a  hollow  square,  five  files  deep, 
the  enemy  waited.  Rego  turned  in  his  saddle 
and  waved  his  hand.  The  bugle  sounded  "al 
machete, ' '  and  before  the  notes  had  died  away 
the  Cubans  charged  down  the  hill. 

Squadron  after  squadron  the  men  raced  down 
the  incline.  No  sound  was  heard  save  the 
thud  of  hoofs  and  rattle  of  arms,  as  the  first 
squadron,  with  Rego  in  the  lead,  neared  the 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  159 

square.  As  the  Cubans  approached  the  Span 
ish  officers  were  heard  shouting  words  of  en 
couragement  to  their  men.  Nearer  and  nearer 
came  the  Cubans.  A  volley  like  a  thunder 
clap  leaped  from  the  square,  followed  instantly 
by  a  crash,  as  horses  and  riders  dashed  into 
the  compact  wall  of  flesh  and  steel.  Like  an 
avalanche  the  patriots  tore  and  cut  their  way 
through  the  ranks.  The  cries  of  the  wounded 
mingled  with  the  shouts  of  rage  and  the  clash 
of  steel.  Each  man  fought  for  himself,  and 
for  several  minutes  it  was  give  and  take;  then 
the  Spaniards  broke  and  ran.  That  night 
more  than  a  thousand  guns  lay  piled  before 
Rego's  tent,  and  huddled  beneath  a  large  Ceiba 
tree  were  sixty-three  prisoners  of  war.  The 
insurgents  had  lost  in  dead  and  wounded 
nearly  two  hundred  men.  Forty -three  Span 
iards  reached  the  village  alive. 

Now  happened  the  action  which  has  placed 
Eego  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  men  who 
fight  for  Cuban  liberty.  At  daybreak  on  the 
following  morning  he  sent  a  letter  to  Lieuten- 


100          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

ant-Colonel  Hernandez,  then  in  command  of 
the  town  of  Cumanajagua,  saving  that  he  was 
prepared  to  return,  unharmed,  his  sixty-three 
prisoners,  provided  he  was  allowed  to  enter  the 
town  with  flying  colors  to  do  so.  AYord  was 
received  in  reply  that  "the  loyal  troops  of 
Spain  will  gladly  receive  and  entertain  so  gal 
lant  and  generous  an  enemy." 

On  November  17  Colonel  Rego  with  his  en 
tire  force  appeared  on  the  road  leading  to 
Cumanajagua.  At  his  side  rode  the  color  bearer 
behind  came  his  staff,  which  was  in  turn  fol 
lowed  by  the  prisoners.  As  the  patriot  leader 
halted,  scarcely  fifty  yards  away  from  the  fort, 
the  flag  of  Spain  was  lowered  and  raised  three 
time  in  salute.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Hernandcx, 
followed  by  his  fellow-officers,  then  came  for 
ward,  and  in  a  few  brief  remarks  thanked  Rego 
for  his  generous  act,  and  welcomed  him  to  the 
town.  Accompanied  only  by  his  color  bearer 
and  staff  officers,  Colonel  Eego  accepted  the 
invitation  given  by  the  Spaniards  to  breakfast 
with  them.  During  the  meal  the  utmost  good 


IX   THE    SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  101 

fellowship  prevailed,  and-  only  once  was  it 
marred  by  the  action  of  a  too  ambitious  subal 
tern.  Piising  from  his  chair,  the  \  ouug  man 
proposed  the  health  of  the  queen.  Fearing 
some  kind  of  treachery,  the  Cuban  officers 
sprang  to  their  feet.  For  a  moment  things 
looked  dark,  but  with  his  customary  tact  Rego 
smoothed  matters  over. 

"To  the  queen,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  rais 
ing  his  glass.  "And  now,"  he  continued, 
after  the  toast,  "to  our  President  aud  Cuba 
Libre. ' ' 

As  Ilego  was  preparing  to  leave  the  town  a 
few  hours  later,  his  former  prisoners  crowded 
around  him.  Some  kissed  his  hand,  and 
others  attempted  to  embrace  him.  Before 
leaving  he  gave  to  each  one  the  sum  of  ten 
dollars  and  sixty  cents.  A  few  minutes  later, 
amid  cries  of  "Viva  Cuba, "  and  "Viva  Es- 
paha, "  Hego  and  his  little  escort  rode  out  of 
Cumanajagua  and  joined  his  men. 

A  short  time  afterward  Eego  received  a  letter 
from  General  Paudo,  offering  him  sixty  thous- 


162  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

and  dollars  and  the  rank  of  brigadier-general  in 
the  Spanish  army  if  ho  would  abandon  the 
Cuban  cause. 

"I  would  have  never  acted  as  I  did,"  replied 
Rego,  "if  I  had  thought  that  this  would  have 
been  my  reward." 

Eego  has  since  been  promoted  to  brigadier- 
general,  and  is  at  the  present  time  in  command 
of  the  Cienfuegos  brigade. 


IN   THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          163 


XIII. 

PE  AB  0  D  Y. 

IN  a  quiet  spot,  shaded  by  a  large  Ceiba 
tree,  near  the  river  Hanabana,  in  the  province 
of  Matanzas,  and  surmounted  by  a  plain  board, 
is  a  small  pile  of  stones.  Burned  into  the  wood 
are  the  following  words : 

"In  memory  of  Peabody.  Killed  in  action 
May  1,  1896.  Erected  by  her  friends  in 
Squadron  C.,  Fourth  Brigade." 

Many  have  died  fighting  bravely  for  the 
solitary  star  of  Cuba,  but  none  ever  served 
their  country  more  patiently  and  faithfully 
than  did  poor  old  Peabody.  She  was  only  a 
mule,  a  plain,  everyday,  ordinary,  awkward, 
stubborn  brown  mule.  But  as  such  she  filled 
the  important  place  of  "ammunition  carrier," 


164          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

and  was  never  known  to  be  missing  when 
wanted. 

Born  in  Cuba,  her  hopes  were  with  her 
countrymen;  and  small  wonder  was  it,  that 
when  pressed  into  the  Spanish  army,  she 
availed  herself  of  the  first  opportunity  to  offer 
her  services  to  her  flag. 

It  was  at  the  battle  of  Palo  Prieto,  on 
November  14,  1895.  The  late  Brigadier-Gen 
eral  Bruno  Zayas,  with  his  troop  of  four  hun 
dred  men,  was  stationed  at  the  crossroads  of 
Las  Graces  and  Santa  Clara,  defending  General 
Serafin  Sanchez's  left  wing.  The  fight  had 
commenced  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  at 
which  hour  General  Molina,  with  a  force 
three  times  superior  in  number  to  the  Cubans, 
had  attempted  to  cut  to  pieces  the  insurgent 
camp.  General  Sanchez,  who  unfortunately 
for  the  cause,  was  shortly  afterward  killed, 
had,  however,  received  word  of  the  enemy's 
approach,  and  had  made  his  plans  accordingly. 

Palo  Prieto  is  to-day  well  known  to  both 
sides;  previous  to  this  battle  the  Spaniards 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  165 

were  unaware  of  its  existence.  It  lies  in  a  val 
ley  formed  by  an  almost  complete  circuit  of 
hills,  there  being  but  two  entrances,  on  the 
northwest  and  south  sides  of  the  field.  On 
the  latter  side,  and  for  a  distance  of  no  more 
than  seventy -five  yards,  runs  the  river  Hana- 
bana.  Beyond  this,  dotted  here  and  there  by 
small  woods,  stretches  the  open  country,  clear 
to  the  forts  of  Santa  Clara.  Into  this  enor 
mous  circle,  General  Sanchez,  by  a  strategic 
movement,  lead  the  enemy.  Once  within  they 
were  assailed  by  a  tremendous  fire,  which 
poured  from  every  crevice  in  the  hills.  The 
dangerous  and  all-important  northwestern  exit 
was  iustrusted  to  the  care  of  Zayas  and  his 
famqus  "red  troopers,"  so  called  on  account  of 
the  appearance  they  presented,  when  covered 
with  red  dust,  they  answered  roll  call  after  the 
battle  of  Paso  Eeal. 

The  troopers  had  defended  nobly  the  pass 
all  day.  Time  and  time  again  the  enemy  had 
charged  only  to  be  driven  back  each  time. 
Shortly  after  noon  the  ammunition  began  to 


166  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

run  low,  and  many  were  the  coveted  glances 
cast  at  the  enemy's  "ammunition  mules," 
which,  well  protected,  stood  huddled  together 
in  the  center  of  the  Spanish  square.  Sud 
denly,  and  Avhen  Zayas  himself  had  almost 
made  up  his  mind  to  give  the  order  to  retreat, 
a  commotion  occurred  in  the  enemy's  ranks. 
The  next  second  and  the  front  of  the  square 
gave  way  as  though  pushed  by  a  tremendous 
battering  ram,  and  followed  by  eight  of  her 
companions,  a  large  brown  mule  broke  through 
the  ranks  and  headed  directly  for  the  Cubans. 
In  a  twinkling  of  an  eye  each  man  ceased  to 
fire,  and  breathlessly  watched  their  approach. 
Straight  for  the  troopers  they  came,  never 
heeding  the  rain  of  bullets  which  their  dis 
mayed  and  former  master  sent  flying  after 
them,  as  they  blindly  followed  their  patriotic 
leader.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  they 
reached  the  Cubans,  who  welcomed  them  with 
three  hearty  and  grateful  cheers.  The  leader, 
who  was  at  once  christened  Peabody,  on  ac 
count  of  the  class  of  ammunition  which  she 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  1G7 

carried,  appeared  to  be  thoroughly  aware  of 
her  brave  and  timely  action,  as  she  calmly  sub 
mitted  to  the  tremendous  rush  which  was  made 
at  her  cargo.  The  fresh  supply  of  ammuni 
tion  decided  the  battle,  and  the  Spaniards, 
throwing  all  honor  to  the  winds,  sought  safety 
a  few  minutes  later  in  an  ignominious  and 
disorderly  retreat. 

That  night  Peabody  was  duly  christened  and 
enrolled  into  the  ranks  of  the  "red  troopers." 

For  many  months  after  this  Peabody  served 
her  troop  and  country  well.  Like  all  mules 
she  had  her  tantrums,  but  Piafael,  whose  sole 
dutjr  it  was  to  look  after  and  care  for  her,  knew 
just  how  to  handle  her.  If  any  dynamite  was 
to  be  carried,  Peabody  was  at  once  intrusted 
with  it.  No  guide  line  ever  held  her  head,  no 
lash  ever  scarred  her  sleek  sides.  A.  word  or 
call  from  Rafael  was  enough  to  let  her  know 
that  she  was  outstepping  her  bounds  and  break 
ing  a  military  rule. 

During  the  march,  no  matter  whether  it  was 
by  day  or  by  night,  going  into  or  coming  out 


108          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

of  battle,  when  needed  she  was  always  at  her 
place.  Her  large  brown  eyes  would  brighten 
up  with  a  strange,  human  light  when  she 
was  spoken  to,  and  a  kind  word,  or  no  matter 
how  small  a  gift,  never  failed  to  bring  a  re 
sponsive  and  grateful  rub  of  her  soft,  white 
nose. 

Previous  to  going  into  battle  alone  did 
she  seem  to  lose  her  customary  placid  man 
ner.  Then  it  was  that  strength  was  necessary 
to  restrain  her  from  following  the  vanguard 
into  action.  Once  in  a  fight  she  was  an 
example  such  as  would  strengthen  the  weakest 
heart.  Just  when  the  carnage  and  din  seemed 
to  be  at  its  utmost,  Peabpdy  was  to  be  seen  at 
her  post,  directly  behind  the  line  of  skirmish 
ers;  ready  if  needed,  calmly  nibbling  the 
grass,  and  moving  slowly  about,  perfectly  heed 
less  of  the  whizz  and  snarl  of  bullets,  as  she 
searched  for  tit-bits.  Several  times  she  was 
hit,  and  at  the  time  of  her  death  more  than 
one  furrow  remained  as  a  needless  reminder  of 
her  gallant  and  useful  services. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  109 

On  May  1,  189G,  General  Zayas  with  his 
entire  troop  camped  at  Mi  Eosa,  a  large  estate 
in  the  province  of  Matanzas.  He  had  just 
returned  from  Pinar  del  Rio,  crossing  General 
Weyler's  famous  trocha.  At  the  last  men 
tioned  place  the  troop  was  forced  to  undergo  a 
heavy  fire,  during  which  Peabody  had  her  left 
ear  broken  by  a  Mauser  bullet.  Try  as  hard 
as  he  could,  the  doctor  was  unable  to  set  the 
drooping  ear,  and  from  that  day  on  Peabody 's 
fine,  intelligent  face  was  marred. 

Zayas  had  not  been  encamped  more  than 
two  hours  when  he  was  told  by  a  pacifico  that 
General  Palanga's  guerrillas,  over  four  hundred 
strong,  was  camped  a  league  away  at  El 
Corojo.  Although  his  force  was  greatly  out 
numbered,  Zayas  did  not  hesitate,  but  decided 
to  remain  and  give  battle  in  the  morning,  and 
thus,  for  once  in  his  remarkable  career,  mak 
ing  a  serious  mistake;  a  mistake  which  was  to 
cost  the  lives  of  many  of  his  brave  troopers 
and  of  Peabody. 

The   following    day    dawned   beautiful   and 


170          IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

clear.  Not  a  cloud  marred  the  horizon,  as  the 
sun  in  all  her  grandeur  of  light  and  warmth, 
rose  majestically  over  the  tops  of  the  pine 
trees,  and  shone  down  upon  our  little  camp, 
causing  the  myriads  of  dewdrops  on  (lie 
leaves  and  grass  to  twinkle  and  sparkle  forth 
as  many  different  little  colored  rays.  Now 
and  then  the  soft  coo  of  a  dove  calling  her 
mate  mingled  with  the  chirp  of  the  jntia,  as 
together  they  watched,  in  amazement,  the  busy 
scene.  Horses  were  saddled,  ammunition  dis 
tributed,  and  all  was  made  ready  for  the  com 
ing  encounter. 

Slowly  the  morning  wore  on,  and  still  there 
was  no  sign  of  the  enemy. 

The  sun  had  almost  reached  the  zenith,  and 
the  heat  was  becoming  unbearable,  to  both 
man  and  beast,  when  the  first  shot  rang  out. 
The  next  instant  it  was  followed  by  a  volley 
which  tore  the  leaves  from  the  trees  and  sent 
the  twigs  flying  through  the  air. 

The  famous  battle  of  Mi  Eosa  had  begun. 

With  a  coolness    born   of  constant  fighting 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  171 

the  troopers  sprang  to  tlieir  horses'  heads  arid 
awaited  the  order  to  mount,  which  the  notes  of 
the  bugle  soon  gave,  sounding  clearly  and 
merrily  above  the  uproar. 

Unable  to  cope  from  the  very  start  with  the 
tremendous  force  which  attacked  them,  the 
guard  was  rapidly  driven  back  into  the  camp, 
and  the  fire  became  a  general  one.  The  enemy 
surrounded  Zayas  on  all  but  one  side,  the  left 
flank,  which  was  protected  by  a  small  wood. 
Much  against  his  will,  and  customary  mode  of 
fighting,  the  general  was  obliged  to  form  his 
force  in  a  hollow  square.  During  three  long, 
horrible  hours,  and  beneath  a  murderous  fire, 
the  men  fought  gamely,  then  their  ammunition 
commenced  to  give  out.  The  situation  was  a 
desperate  one.  As  fast  as  a  horse  was  killed 
his  carcass  was  dragged  to  the  front  to  serve 
as  a  barricade  from  behind  which  the  men, 
stretched  on  the  ground,  fired. 

During  all  this  time  Peabody  had  remained 
standing  in  the  center  of  the  square.  Stretched 
at  her  feet  was  her  faithful  friend  and  master 


172  IN   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

Rafael.  Every  once  in  a  while,  especially  so 
when  a  bullet  passed  unpleasantly  near,  she 
would  move  her  head  slightly,  but  barring  this 
and  an  occasional  pawing,  she  gave  no  outward 
signs  of  nervousness.  Her  pack  had  been 
taken  off  her,  and  she  stood  there,  amid  the 
dying  and  the  dead,  with  the  sun  shining  on  her 
bright  sleek  sides,  looking  in  amazement  at 
the  enemy.  She  was  a  picture  which  time 
itself  will  never  efface  from  the  memory  of  her 
companions  on  that  day. 

"Scarcely  any  ammunition  left,  sir,"  said 
Sergeant  Zamora,  as  he  coolly  blew  through 
the  ritle  of  his  barrel. 

"And  not  a  horse  fit  to  ride,"  answered 
Zayas,  looking  dejectedly  around.  "By 
George,  there's  Peabody  sound  and  safe. 
Rafael,  do  you  think  you're  capable  of  riding 
her  to  General  Arangureu's  camp  for  help? 
No  one  but  you  can  ride  her." 

Now  Rafael  had  never  been  noted  for  any 
particular  deed  of  valor;  in  fact,  in  a  fight  he 
was  always  conspicuous  by  his  absence.  But 


IX    THE    SADDI.F,    WITH    GOMEZ.  173 

maybe  it  was  his  beloved  Peabody's  example, 
or  the  surety  that  death  awaited  him  if  he 
remained  where  he  was,  that  made  him  answer 
in  the  affirmative  to  the  general's  question. 

"Then  ride  at  ouce;  and  as  fast  as  she  can 
carry  you  to  General  Aranguren.  Tell  him 
how  we  are  fixed,  and  to  come  at  once  with  his 
troop,"  said  Zayas. 

Peabody  appeared  to  realize  the  situation, 
for  contrary  to  her  custom  she  made  no  resist 
ance  when  the  bridle  was  slipped  into  her 
mouth,  and  when  Rafael  vaulted  on  to  her  back. 

' '  Now  go,  and  ride  for  your  lives, ' '  cried  the 
general,  as  the  boy  turned  her  head. 

The  next  instant  they  were  off.  No  human 
power  will  ever  convince  the  red  troopers  that 
Peabody  was  not  aware  of  her  errand.  The 
second  the  spur  touched  her  she  shot  from  the 
square.  With  outstretched  head,  and  muscles 
strained  to  their  utmost,  she  plied  her  dainty 
little  hoofs,  in  one  frantic  effort.  No 
thoroughbred  ever  responded  more  gamely,  or 
more  determinedly.  A  parting  shot  from  the 


174  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

enemy  pierced  her  n^ck,  but  she  did  not  ap 
pear  to  mind  it  as  see  tore  along  the  path 
through  the  woods  and  into  the  highway. 

General  Aranguren,  with  four  hundred  men, 
was  camped  at  La  Yaya,  a  little  over  two 
leagues  away.  Never  during  the  entire  dis 
tance  did  Peabody  relax  her  speed,  and  in  an 
incredibly  short  time,  Rafael  reached  Aran 
guren' s  camp.  News  of  the  fight  had  reached 
there,  and  Rafael  found  the  entire  squadron 
formed  and  ready  to  march.  Five  minutes 
later  they  swung  into  the  road,  to  reinforce 
their  hard-pressed  companions. 

Much  to  Rafael's  terror  Aranguren  placed 
him  in  the  vanguard  to  lead  the  way ;  and 
thus  it  was  that  not  only  did  Peabody  go  for 
help,  but  also  did  she  lead  it  back. 

As  they  neared  the  scene  of  action  it  became 
apparent  by  the  firing  that  the  Cubans  were 
more  than  hard  pressed.  The  sharp  volleys  of 
the  Spaniards  were  only  answered  anon  by  the 
red  troopers,  The  time  that  it  had  taken  the 


IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          175 

relief  to  arrive  had  served  to    make  its  aid  all 
the  more  needed. 

The  dead  and  dying  troopers  scattered 
hither  and  thither,  mingled  with  the  carcasses 
of  horses,  bullet-torn  saddles  and  useless 
machetes  and  guns.  Open  ammunition 
pouches,  strewn  promiscuously  about  proved 
how  desperately  and  hungrily  the  men  had 
searched  for  shells.  The  very  pose  of  the 
bodies  showed  how  the  men  had  fought  to  the 
bitter  end.  On  the  outer  edge  of  the  square  a 
trooper  lay  stretched  beside  his  horse.  Both 
were  dead — pierced  by  the  same  bullet.  The 
man  had  evidently  just  fired  his  last  shot,  for 
his  hand  was  partiallj-  hidden  in  a  dead  com 
rades  ammunition  pouch,  searching  for  the 
shell  which  death  prevented  him  from  ever 
finding.  A  short  distance  off  a  sergeant,  a 
mere  boy,  whose  right  arm  hung  limp  and 
bleeding,  vainly  attempted  to  ease  the  suffer 
ings  of  his  dying  charger,  shot  through  the 
breast.  Now  and  then  there  came  from  be 
neath  a  pile  of  motionless  figures  a  puff  of 


KO  IN   THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

smoke,  as  with  a,  last  effort  a  trooper  fired  his 
parting  shot.  Grit  and  determination  was 
written  on  the  smoke-begrimed  faces  of  the 
man  as  they  carefully  aimed  and  answered  the 
death-dealing  volleys  of  the  Spaniards.  Such 
was  the  condition  of  the  squadron  when  Aran- 
guren's  troopers,  with  Peabody  still  proudly 
in  the  lead,  emerged  from  the  woods. 

The  hard-pressed  men  saw  them,  and  a  faint 
shout  of  joy  arose  from  the  square.  A  charge 
alone  could  save  the  day,  and  the  preparatory 
orders  were  accordingly  given.  Line  after 
line,  troop  after  troop,  the  men  formed,  eager 
to  avenge  their  dead  comrades. 

Quick  to  act,  the  enemy  rallied  their  skirm 
ishers  and  tired  at  the  reinforcements. 

Two  shots  .struck  Peabody  ;  one  in  the  shoul 
der,  the  other  in  the  chest.  For  a  second  she 
remained  motionless.  Then,  as  she  began  to 
totter,  a  look  of  sorrow  and  amazement  came 
into  her  soft  brown  eyes.  Slowly  one  knee 
bent,  as  though  loathe  to  lower  that  proud 
head,  then  the  other  gave  way,  and  poor  Pea- 


IX    THK    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  177 

body  rolled  to  the  ground.  Feebly  and  vainly 
she  struggled  to  rise,  two  large  tears  trick 
ling  down  her  face,  as  her  efforts  grew  weaker. 
Her  eyes,  over  which  Death  was  rapidly  draw 
ing  his  mantle,  turned  toward  her  troopers,  as 
though  saying  farewell  to  the  men  whose  lives 
she  had  saved  with  her  own. 

Slower  and  more  faintly  beat  her  honest 
heart  as  the  bugle  sounded  the  charge.  Then, 
as  the  squadron  swept  by  in  all  its  glory  of 
life  and  strength,  Peabody  died,  lulled  to  sleep 
by  the  victorious  cries  of  the  charging  troopers. 


178          IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 


XIV. 

GOD'S   YICTOKY. 

IT  was  a  hot  cloudy  day,  and  the  dust  which 
the  horses  raised  rilled  our  eyes  and  dried  our 
throats. 

That  morning  at  eight  o'clock  we  had  broken 
camp,  and  it  was  now  three  o'clock,  with  no 
prospect  of  ever  coining  to  a  halt.  The  men, 
accustomed  as  they  were  to  hardships  and  to 
blind  obedience,  were  commencing  to  murmur, 
while  to  add  to  our  misery,  several  of  the 
horses  had  almost  given  out,  and  their  riders 
were  forced  in  order  to  save  them  to  dismount 
and  walk  by  their  sides.  Colonel  Eoja,  him 
self,  as  he  rode  a  few  yards  ahead  of  us,  pre 
sented  a  sad  and  bedraggled  appearance,  as, 
covered  with  dust  and  with  his  left  leg  slung 
across  the  pummel  of  his  saddle,  he  swayed 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.  It9 

from  side  to  side,  keeping  time  to  the  regular 
motion  of  his  horse. 

A  week  previously  we  had  received  dis 
patches  from  General  Gomez  for  General 
Maceo,  with  orders  "to  deliver  them  at  once 
arid  return."  It  meant  a  ride  of  over  four 
hundred  miles  through  the  provinces  of  Ma- 
tanzas  and  Havana,  across  the  "trocha, "  and 
halfway  into  Pinar  del  Eio.  A  most  danger 
ous  commission,  for  although  we  were  four 
hundred  strong,  we  would  have  to  cross  time 
and  time  again  the  enemy's  territory.  Only 
certain  places  were  safe  enough  to  allow  us  to 
camp,  and  as  on  this  eventful  day  it  sometimes 
happened  that  they  were  leagues  apart. 

My  horse,  Senator  Sherman,  was  beginning 
to  tug  at  the  reins,  and  knowing  the  little  fel 
low's  signal  of  distress  I  decided  to  give  him 
a  rest.  Calling  Andre,  my  orderly,  I  handed 
the  bridle  to  him,  then  tucking  my  machete 
and  Winchester  one  under  each  arm,  I  tilted 
my  hat  over  my  eyes,  and  plodded  along  with 
the  rest  of  my  men.  A  half-hour  later  and 


180  IX   THE    SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

everybody  including  Eoja  Lad  done  like 
wise. 

"Pretty  tough  work  tins  marching, ' '  drawled 
Lieutenant  Dudley,  wiping  his  face  with  a 
much-faded  silk  handkerchief. 

I  nodded  by  way  of  reply.  I  was  too  busy 
trying  to  carry  my  weary  bod}'  along,  not  to 
mention  my  many  and  heavy  accoutrements,  to 
make  any  other  reply.  It  was  different  with 
Dudley  He  was  an  Englishman,  and  like  the 
majority  of  his  race,  big  and  strong.  Poor 
fellow,  a  saber  thrust  settled  his  fate  six  weeks 
later,  and  deprived  me  of  one  of  my  best  friends. 

"Better  try  a  cigarette,  old  chap,  it  will 
soothe  3rour  ruffled  spirits, ' '  he  continued,  as 
with  a  flourish  which  smacked  of  former  days 
he  passed  me  his  dented  cigarette  case.  "I 
wonder  where  he's  taking  us  to  at  this  rate?" 
he  added,  blowing  a  cloud  of  smoke  in  Pvoja's 
direction. 

"I  don't  know,  unless  it  is  to  San  Miguel; 
that  is  the  only  camp  safe  enough  for  us 
around  here,"  I  replied. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  181 

For  several  minutes  we  walked  along  in 
silence,  during  which  time  I  managed  to 
stumble  repeatedly,  thereby  causing  myself  to 
waste  much  breath  in  denouncing  a  government 
which  so  far  neglected  its  highways  as  to  cause 
an  officer  in  the  republic's  service  to  endanger 
his  life  by  walking  upon  them. 

"Notice  anything  unusual  about  the  colo 
nel?"  asked  Dudley,  as  he  wasted  some  of 
his  superfluous  strength  by  kicking  along  in 
front  of  him  a  green  mango.  "Acting  very 
strangely  to-day.  Eh,  old  man?" 

"Well,  he's  never  been  the  same  since  that 
wound  on  his  neck, ' '  remarked  Captain  Ca 
brera,  as  ho  joined  us.  "That  was  wound 
uuiuber  two,  and  he  claims  that  number  three 
will  finish  him." 

"Well,  I  hope  not,"  replied  Dudley,  and 
once  more  we  walked  along  in  silence.  Shortly 
afterward  San  Miguel  came  in  sight  and 
twenty  minutes  later,  after  nearly  twelve  hours 
of  steady  marching,  we  went  into  camp. 

I  had  just  finished  watching  Andre  attend  to 


182          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

the  feeding  and  bathing  of  my  horse,  and  had 
told  him  how  I  wanted  my  dinner,  when  the 
colonel's  orderly  appeared. 

"You're  wanted  at  the  colonel's  tent,  sir," 
he  said,  saluting.  With  a  final  look  at  Sena 
tor  Sherman,  who  stood  calmly  in  the  shade 
eating  his  dinner,  I  hastened  to  obey  the  colo 
nel's  summons.  There  I  found  Captain  Ca 
brera  and  Lieutenants  Molina  and  Dudley. 
Twenty -four  hours  later,  and  Dudley  and  I 
were  to  be  all  that  remained  alive  of  that  little 
group. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  colonel,  after  he  had 
motioned  us  to  be  seated;  "my  position  is  a 
most  delicate  one.  As  you  know  I  carry  dis 
patches  of  the  utmost  importance  to  General 
Maceo.  Dispatches,  such  as  should  they  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  would  do  us  the 
utmost  harm.  General  Pando  with  his  troop 
is  camped  half  a  league  away.  I  am  trying 
to  avoid  an  encounter,  but  I  fear  it  is  impossi 
ble.  Should  I  be  unsuccessful  and  anything 
happen  to  me,  may  I  count  on  you,  one  and 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  183 

all,  to  guard  these  despatches  and  deliver  them, 
cost  what  it  may?" 

"Yes,  sir,  you  may, "  we  answered  in  unison. 

"Thank  you,  gentleman,  that  is  all,"  he 
answered,  a  sad  smile  lighting  up  his  sun 
burned  face. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  that  something  was 
wrong  with  the  old  man?"  said  Dudley,  slip 
ping  his  arm  around  mine  as  we  walked  away. 

"It's  only  a  foolish  superstition,"  I  replied. 
"A  man  can't  lead  this  life  all  the  time  with 
out  getting,  once  in  a  while,  the  blue  devils. 
How  about  breakfast?" 

"The  same  as  I  have  had  for  the  past  week; 
roasted  meat  and  roasted  potatoes?"  he  an 
swered,  with  a  hungry  sigh. 

"Share  my  dinner  then.  Andre  has  some 
thing  better  than  that." 

"Delighted,  old  chap.  What  time  do  you 
dine?"  he  answered. 

""\Yheu  it  so  pleases  Andre.      Come  along." 

A  short  while  after  our  scanty  repast  we 
were  joined  by  Cabrera  and  Molina,  two  of 


184  IN    THE   SADDLE   WITH    (JOMEZ. 

the  bravest  and  finest   fellows   that  it  was  ever 
my  fortune  to  knoAv. 

Cabrera,  Avho  was  no  more  tlian  twenty -two 
year  old,  Avas  famous  the  island  over  for  his 
daring  deed  at  La  Mandinga.  He  was  a  second 
lieutenant  at  the  time.  A  charge  had  been 
ordered  by  General  Gomez.  At  that  very 
moment  a  volley  from  the  enemy  wounded  both 
of  Cabrera's  superior  officers.  Without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  he  jumped  in  front  of 
the  men  and  gaAre  the  order  to  charge.  The 
men  at  first  obeyed,  but  as  they  neared  the 
enemy's  line,  and  began  to  feel  the  effects  of 
their  fire,  they  Avavered  and  finally  came  to  a 
dead  halt.  Cabrera  ordered  and  begged  them 
to  follow  him.  All  in  vain,  they  would  not 
budge.  With  a  final  word  of  entreaty,  Cabrera 
dug  the  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  alone  charged 
the  enemy.  Three  bullets  struck  him,  but  he 
never  faltered.  To  men  of  such  caliber  death 
is  better  than  disgrace.  Barely  thirty  yards 
separated  him  from  the  enemy,  Avhen  his  ex 
ample  told  on  his  men,  and  with  a  cry  of 


IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  185 

"Viva  Cuba,"  they  followed  Lim.  When 
picked  up  after  the  battle,  Cabrera  was 
wounded  in  five  places.  That  night  Gomez 
himself  went  to  the  hospital  and  promoted  him 
to  the  rank  of  a  captain. 

No  one  to  look  at  him  would  have  thought 
that  he  possessed  even  the  ordinary  amount  of 
courage. 

His  face  was  like  that  of  a  woman's, 
smooth  and  even  featured,  with  large  brown 
eyes  that  were  never  meant  to  look  upon  the 
horrors  of  war;  while  to  complete  the  delusion, 
his  voice  had  a  decided  girlish  ring  to  it.  Sad 
as  a  rule,  his  entire  demeanor  would  change  at 
the  first  notes  of  the  bugle,  and  he  would  ride 
into  battle  at  the  head  of  his  men,  his  cheeks 
flushed  with  excitement,  and  his  every  motion 
betokening  a  soldier.  He  and  Molina  were 
inseparable,  and  it  was  no  ususuai  thing  to  see 
them  attempting,  in  an  off-hand  manner,  while 
under  fire,  to  shield  one  another  from  danger. 
It  is  at  the  front  where  true  friends  are  to  be 
found ;  it  is  there  also  where  the  clasp  of  the 


186          IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ. 

hand    and  the  word  friend  Las  more  than    its 
ordinary  meaning. 

During  two  hours  we  sat  around  the  fire 
talking.  No  mention  was  made  of  the  possible 
encounter  in  the  morning,  we  had  long  since 
become  used  to  such  things,  but  like  all  mor 
tals  who  delight  in  making  themselves  miser 
able  we  spoke  of  former  good  times  and  of 
the  black  prospects  of  the  future. 

While  thus  engaged  the  faint  notes  of  a 
bugle  carried  across  the  fields  by  the  breeze 
reached  our  ears. 

"General  Pando's  bugle  sounding  'taps,' 
exclaimed  Cabrera. 

"And  there  goes  ours,"  growled  Molina,  as 
the  bugler  stepped  into  the  center  of  the  camp. 
The  next  instant  and  the  call  re-echoed  through 
the  hills,  impudently  defying  our  foes.  "With 
a  whispered  good-night  my  companions  left 
me  alone  with  Andre,  who,  wrapped  in  the 
arms  of  Morpheus,  lay  stretched  beneath  my 
hammock. 

A  true  cavalryman  never  turns  in  without 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  187 

first  seeing  to  his  horse's  comfort,  and  not 
wishing  to  awaken  my  faithful  darky,  I  threw 
my  poucho  over  my  shoulders  in  order  to  pro 
tect  my  only  suit  from  the  wet  guinea  grass, 
and  started  to  say  good-night  to  Senator  Sher 
man. 

I  found  him  as  usual,  calmly  eating.  Of  all 
the  horses  to  have  an  appetite,  Senator  Sher 
man  certainly  took  the  medal.  Rain  or  shine, 
heat  or  cold,  nothing  in  fact  could  interfere 
with  it.  Dear  little  friend,  you  settled  all 
your  debts  to  me  when,  on  that  memorable  day 
at  La  Estrella,  your  nimble  legs  saved  my  life. 

On  the  way  back  I  chanced  to  pass  by  the 
colonel's  tent.  Much  to  my  surprise  I  found 
him  leaning  against  a  tree,  smoking  a  cigar. 
I  saluted,  and  was  about  to  pass  on,  when  he 
called  me. 

"The  papers  are  in  my  saddle  bag;  the  one 
on  the  left,"  he  said,  pointing  to  where  his 
saddle  lay  slung  across  a  pole.  "You  will  find 
them  there  when  all  is  over." 

I   was    about    to    reply    when    he    turned 


188  IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ. 

abruptly  on  his  l.eel  and  walked  away.  Won 
dering  at  what  the  morrow  would  bring  us,  I 
returned  to  my  hammock  and  made  read}'  to 
"turn  in."  rT,  >n  minutes  later  I  was  asleep. 

I  awoke  (c  ihe  sound  of  "reveille,"  at  half- 
past  three,  <  j  rind  it  raining.  Judging  from 
the  appearance  of  the  ground  it  had  evidently 
been  doing  so  for  several  hours,  but  the  march 
of  the  previous  day  had  so  tired  me  that  it  is 
hard  to  say  just  what  would  have  awakened 
me.  I  sent  Andre  after  my  horse,  and  set 
about  uuslinging  my  hammock  and  rolling  it; 
no  easy  matter,  for  what  with  the  dew  and  the 
rain  it  was  'airly  well  soaked.  I  had  barely 
finished  wh  m  my  orderly  reappeared  with 
Senator  Shemian,  none  the  worse  for  his  damp 
night's  rest.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell 
he  was  rubbed  down,  saddled  and  tied  to  the 
bough  of  a  neighboring  tree. 

At  four  o'clock  the  order  to  "fall  in"  was 
given,  and  for  a  moment  the  hubbub  of  voices 
was  drowned  by  the  trampling  of  horses  and 
the  clanking  of  spurs  and  arms. 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GO.MKZ.  189 

"Attention!  Prepare  to  mount!  Mount!" 
and  four  hundred  men  swung  simultaneously 
into  the  saddle.  At  that  very  moment,  and  as 
though  acting  as  a  forerunner  to  the  memorable 
day  which  had  just  dawned,  the  rain  com 
menced  to  come  down  in  torrents.  The  ink- 
black  clouds  were  parted  here  and  there  by 
vivid  flashes  of  lightning,  and  peal  after  peal 
of  thunder  re-echoed  about  us ;  while  to  add  to 
our  misery  the  wind,  which  up  to  that  time 
had  been  fairly  moderate,  increased  in  force 
and  drove  the  rain  in  blinding  sheets  against 
our  faces.  Leaves,  twigs,  and,  in  fact,  every 
thing  which  the  wind  could  wrench  from  the 
ground,  went  sailing  through  the  air.  Now 
and  then  the  rain  would  let  up  a  bit,  only  to 
be  started  afresh  by  a  clap  of  thunder  which 
seemed  to  shake  the  very  earth.  All  this  time 
the  squadron,  drawn  up  in  a  long  sinuous  line 
stood  at  attention,  the  water  running  in  little 
streams  from  every  angle  of  the  men's  bodies. 
Occasionally  a  horse,  made  nervous  by  the 
tedious  wait  and  rain,  would  rear  and  plunge, 


190  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

causing  the  line  to  undulate  like  tbo  coils  of 
some  large  serpent. 

Dudley,  a  few  feet  away  from  me,  sat  his 
horse  and  appeared  totally  indifferent  to  every 
thing  except  a  piece  of  straw,  upon  which  he 
was  arduously  chewing.  In  answer  to  a  look  of 
inquiry  which  I  gave  him,  he  withdrew  the 
straw  from  his  mouth  long  enough  to  tell  me 
that  the  colonel  was  waiting  for  the  scouts  to 
return. 

An  hour  went  by  and  then  they  appeared, 
coming  down  the  road  at  a  sharp  pace.  In 
stantly  everyone  braced  up.  Something  was 
going  to  happen.  One  of  the  scouts,  a  cor 
poral,  rode  up  to  the  colonel  and  made  his 
report.  Several  times  during  the  conversation 
he  pointed  to  a  field  over  a  mile  square  which 
lay  a  short  distance  to  our  right.  When  the 
colonel  had  heard  all  the  man  had  to  say  he 
dismissed  him  and  sent  for  Cabrera  and  I. 

"I  was  mistaken  in  the  identity  of  the  force 
ahead  of  us, "  he  said.  "They  are  the  guardia 
civiles  of  Santo  Domingo,  and  are  about  five 


IN  THE   SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          191 

hundred  strong.  I  cannot  imagine  who  is  in 
command  of  them,  for  according  to  the  last 
report  which  I  received,  their  leader,  Colonel 
Suarez,  was  ill.  At  any  rate  they  are  coming 
this  way,  and  I  propose  to  exchange  a  few 
shots.  Each  of  you  will  take  your  respective 
troops,  and  after  dismounting  your  men,  post 
yourselves  behind  the  stone  wall  on  the  south 
side  of  yonder  fields.  I  will,  with  the  rest  of 
the  force,  station  myself  in  the  center  of  the 
field." 

"Dear  me,  more  dirty  work,"  exclaimed 
Dudley,  when  I  told  him  of  the  order. 
"Why,  my  boots  are  nearly  gone,  and  this  will 
surely  finish  them.  What  a  disgraceful  pre 
dicament  for  one  of  her  majesty's  subjects," 
and  he  groaned  aloud  as  he  obeyed  my  order 
to  dismount.  Leaving  twenty-five  men  to  look 
after  the  horses,  I  formed  the  rest  in  a  column 
of  fours  and  gave  the  order  to  march.  The 
rain  had  not  ceased,  and  the  road  Avas  ankle- 
deep  in  mud,  but  that  was  better  than  dust, 
and  the  men  did  not  appear  to  mind  it  much. 


192          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH 

A  better  ambush  could  not  have  been  wished 
for.  In  front  of  us  stretched  the  open  field, 
smooth  and  level  as  a  billiard  table,  while 
the  large  trees  which  grew  all  around  us 
screened  us  completely  from  the  advancing 
enemy. 

I  ordered  the  men  to  place  themselves  where 
they  wished,  but  not  to  tire  until  I  so  told 
them.  Dudley,  who  was  a  capital  shot,  at 
once  scrambled  up  a  mango  tree  and  straddled 
a  branch.  Several  minutes  of  confusion  en 
sued,  during  which  Cabrera  appeared  and 
posted  his  men  about  one  hundred  yards  fur 
ther  up  the  fence,  then  all  once  more  became 
quiet.  I  picked  out  a  place  in  the  wall, 
directly  beneath  Dudley's  tree,  with  a  splendid 
loophole,  and  stretching  myself  on  the  ground, 
awaited  developments.  Tliey  came  sooner  than 
I  expected. 

"I  say,  old  chap, "  suddenly  cried  Dudley 
from  above,  "this  blooming  branch  is  wob 
bling  in  a  deuced  awkward  manner.  I  think 
you'd  better  move,  don't  you  know." 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ.  193 

I  ' '  knew, ' '  and  consequently  moved  several 
feet  away.  In  this  manner  and  in  the  utmost 
quietude,  a  half-hour  was  passed ;  then  there 
appeared  in  the  ranks  of  the  colonel's  men 
that  wave  of  nervous  excitement  which  always 
denotes  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  Surely 
enough,  a  few  seconds  later  and  they  appeared, 
marching  in  splendid  order,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
down  the  road.  Fifty  feet  ahead  of  them  rode 
their  scouts.  Five  all  told  they  were;  each 
man  a  model  of  discipline.  Straight  as  reeds 
they  rode,  with  the  butts  of  their  carbines  rest 
ing  on  their  knees,  ready  for  instant  action. 
Nearer  and  nearer  they  came,  until  we  dis 
tinctly  heard  the  creaking  of  their  accoutrements 
and  the  trampling  of  the  horses.  Both  side61, 
were  now  visible  to  one  another,  yet  neither 
one  opened  fire.  When  they  reached  the  en 
trance  to  the  field,  fifty  yards  from  my  men,  the 
scouts  halted  and  waited  for  the  main  body  to 
come  up.  Then,  all  massed,  they  stepped 
across  the  opening  and  on  to  the  field. 

I  looked  at  the  colonel.     Stretched  out  on 


194  IN   THE    SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

his  horse,  the  nickel-plated  barrel  of  his  Win 
chester  rested  between  the  ears  of  his  well 
trained  mount.  As  I  looked  there  came  a  puff 
of  smoke,  a  cry  from  a  wounded  Spaniard, 
answered  by  the  roar  of  two  hundred  Cuban 
rifles,  and  Colonel  Roja's  last  fight  was  on. 

I  waited  until  all  of  the  enemy's  force  had 
entered  the  field,  and  then  gave  the  order  to 
fire.  Cabrera  at  once  followed  suit.  Instantly 
a  bugle  sounded,  and  over  two  hundred  Span 
iards  swung  around  in  perfect  order  and  faced 
us.  The  rest  proceeded  a  few  yards  when 
they  halted  and  deploying  as  skirmishers, 
opened  fire  on  Eoja's  men.  I  had  taken  an 
active  part  in  many  skirmishes  with  Spanish 
cavalry,  but  up  to  that  time  I  had  never  been 
so  fortunate  as  to  encounter  Spain's  famous 
guardia  civiles,  and  I  can  truthfully  say  that  a 
finer  set  of  men  it  would  be  very  hard  to  find. 
They  are  indeed  worthy  of  the  praises  which 
their  countrymen  bestow7  upon  them.  Several 
times  during  this  encounter  orders  requiring 
difficult  evolutions  were  given,  and  each  time 


IN  THE  SADDLE  WITH   GOMEZ.          195 

they  were  obeyed  with  that  wonderful  coolness 
and  accurateness  which  denoted  the  thoroughly 
drilled  and  disciplined  soldier. 

Protected  as  we  were  by  the  stone  wall,  we 
had  our  opponents  at  a  great  disadvantage, 
and  before  long  we  had  emptied  several  of  their 
saddles.  At  first  the  Spaniards  fired  from 
their  horses,  but  after  a  short  while  they  dis 
mounted  and  stretched  themselves  in  the 
grass,  where  it  became  more  difficult  to  hit 
them. 

Soon  after  this  maneuver  I  nervously 
noticed  that  their  entire  fire  seemed  to  be 
directed  toward  the  spot  where  I  had  stationed 
myself.  Somewhat  dismayed  at  this  discovery 
I  peered  over  the  top  of  the  wall.  Directly  in 
front  of  me,  and  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  away,  walked  a  Spanish  soldier.  As  I 
looked  he  shouted  an  order,  and  pointed  with 
his  saber  to  the  tree  above  me.  The  next 
instant  he  clapped  his  hand  to  his  side, 
tottered  and  fell. 

"By  Jove!    pinked  at   last.     You  cost  me 


1%          IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH   GOMEZ. 

three  shots,  old  man,  but  I  popped  you  at 
last,"  drawled  a  voice  from  above. 

The  mystery  was  explained;  Dudley's  shoot 
ing  was  making  them  nervous. 

"Come  down  from  there.  You'll  get 
killed,"  I  shouted. 

"By  Jove!  what  an  unkind  and  jarring  re 
mark  to  make,  old  chap.  Just  you— 

But  the  rest  of  his  speech  is  lost  to  history, 
for  the  next  instant  there  came  from  over  my 
head  the  sound  of  cracking  wood,  a  wild  yell, 
followed  by  the  thump  of  Dudley's  enormous 
frame  upon  the  ground. 

"Are  you  hurt?"  I  exclaimed,  mentally 
thanking  my  stars  that  he  had  not  landed  upon 
my  back. 

"De-ar  me,"  he  gasped;  "lucky  you  mo- ved 
old  chap-pie.  Blooming  old  stick  wobbled 
and  wobbled  until  it  cracked  in  two. ' ' 

His  experience  had,  however,  been  a  lesson 
to  him,  and  he  contented  himself  from  that 
time  on  with  fighting  from  terra jirma. 

Immediately  afterward  the  firing  became  too 


IN    THE    SADDLE    WITH    GOMEZ.  107 

hot  to  allow  of  any  conversation,  but  every 
once  in  a  \ihile  Dudley's  "By  Jove!"  would 
reach  me  through  the  fire  and  smoke. 

An  hour  went  by  in  this  manner,  with  no 
visible  advantage  to  either  side.  One  of  my 
men  had  been  killed  and  three  others  wounded, 
but  in  return  we  had  placed  hors  de  combat 
seven  of  theirs.  Just  when  I  was  wondering 
how  long  I  would  have  to  hold  this  position, 
Sergeant  Zamora  rode  up  and  told  me  that  the 
colonel's  orders  were  for  me  to  mount  my  men 
and  rejoin  him  at  once. 

Something  had  occurred,  I  concluded,  or  eko 
the  old  fellow  would  never  have  changed  his 
plans,  and  accordingly  I  hastened  to  obey. 

As  our  two  troops  galloped  on  to  the  field,  I 
noticed  that  many  of  our  horses  were  trotting 
aimlessly  about  without  their  riders.  We  had 
evidently  met  our  match  in  marksmanship. 

Koja  saw  us  coming  and  the  order  to  "as 
semble  on  the  left  skirmisher"  sounded  on  the 
bugle. 

The  firing  had  ceased  completely,  and  both 


198  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

sides  were  now  massing  for  the  final  test. 
Scarcely  three  hundred  yards  separated  us,  , 
and  a  more  imposing  sight  I  have  never  wit 
nessed.  The  dead  and  wounded  of  both  sides 
lay  directly  between  us  on  the  muddy  ground. 
The  thick  smoke  curled  in  heavy  clouds  along 
the  ground,  wrapping  itself  in  fantastic  shapes 
about  the  horses'  feet,  and  inclosing  like  a 
phantom  mantle  the  rain-soaked  forms  of  the 
men.  Surprised  at  the  comparative  silence 
which  now  followed,  the  riderless  horses 
ceased  their  mad  race  and  drawing  nearer, 
halted  on  our  flanks,  and  watched  in  amaze 
ment  the  strange  sight. 

Both  sides,  now  formed,  awaited  the  signal. 
The  commands  "draw  sabers"  and  "prepare 
to  charge"  followed  in  rapid  succession.  The 
Spanish  officer  turned  in  his  saddle  and  said  a 
few  words  to  his  men.  The  next  second  their 
bugle  sounded  the  charge,  and  with  a  long, 
graceful  wave  their  line  sprang  forward.  Sim 
ultaneously  with  their  first  movement,  Koja, 
with  a  sweep  of  his  machete,  gave  the  signal, 


IN   THE   SADDLE    WITH   GOMEZ.  199 

and  with  a  shout  that  shook  the  very  heavens 
we  charged. 

Like  two  colossal  machines,  and  as  though 
impelled  by  the  same  power,  both  sides  swept 
on.  The  thundering  of  hoofs,  the  rattling  of 
arms,  and  the  wild  shouts  of  the  troopers,  rose 
clearly  above  the  noise  of  the  storm.  Nearer 
and  nearer  drew  both  sides,  louder  and  louder 
grew  the  yells  of  the  men,  until  with  a  crash 
which  seemed  to  lift  my  horse  off  the  earth, 
Spaniards  and  Cubans  met. 

I  caught  one  glance  of  Dudley  lifting  his 
long  machete,  to  ward  the  blow  aimed  at  him 
by  the  Spanish  officer,  and  then  there  followed 
a  noise  such  as  no  human  power  can  ever 
equal,  and  I  knew  no  more. 

How  long  I  lay  there  I  know  not.  I  awoke 
to  find  Dudley  sitting  on  the  ground  directly 
opposite  to  me  with  his  face  buried  in  his 
hands.  A  heavy  odor  such  as  can  only  be 
compared  to  that  caused  by  the  bursting  of  a 
dynamite  bomb,  and  the  smell  of  burned  flesh 
at  once  assailed  my  nostrils.  Every  bone  in 


200  IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ. 

ray  body  ached,  and  my  throat  was  so  parched 
that  I  could  hardly  move  my  tongue. 

"For  God's  sake  what  has  happened,  Dud 
ley?"  I  faintly  asked. 

At  first  he  did  not  move,  then  he  slowlj 
lifted  his  head  and  in  a  half-frightened  man 
ner  looked  at  me. 

"Thank  heaven,  old  man,  I  once  more  hear 
your  voice,"  he  cried,  as  he  sprang  toward  me. 
"We  were  struck  by  lightning,  and  there  are 
only  a  few  of  us  left  alive  to  tell  the  tale." 

After  a  feur  minutes  I  was  able  to  sit  up,  and 
to  listen  to  what  he  had  to  say.  According  to 
what  he  remembered,  a  bolt  of  lightning  had 
fallen  between  both  sides  at  the  very  moment 
that  they  had  met,  and  almost  before  a  blow 
had  been  struck.  Nearly  everyone  was  ren 
dered  senseless  by  the  shock,  or  killed  in 
stantly.  Those  who  were  spared  were  too 
much  frightened  to  continue  the  fight.  These 
were  now  huddled  together  in  two  separate 
groups,  not  knowing  exactly  just  what  to  do. 
On  every  side  lay  shapeless  and  charred  fig- 


IN   THE   SADDLE   WITH    GOMEZ.  201 

ures,  while  in  the  spot  where  the  bolt  had 
fallen  a  sickening  mass  was  piled.  An  appall 
ing  silence  reigned  ;  and  everyone  appeared  to 
be  struck  dumb  before  the  proof  of  God's 
inscrutable  power. 

Roja,  Cabrera  and  Molina  had  been  killed. 
We  find  their  bodies  at  the  head  of  the  troop, 
frightfully  mangled. 

Let  us  pass  over  the  sad  scene  which  fol 
lowed.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  a  truce  was  de 
clared,  the  dead  buried,  and  the  wounded  cared 
for.  After  that  both  sides  left  the  field. 

The  dispatches  for  which  so  many  brave 
men  had  perished  were  totally  destroyed,  and 
we  thus  deprived  of  ever  being  able  to  fulfill 
our  promises. 

That  night  many  miles  separated  us  from 
the  ill-fated  field. 

"You  and  I  alone  now,  old  chap,"  said 
Dudley,  as  the  notes  of  "taps"  died  softly 
away. 

"And  to  the  end,"  I  answered,  as  I  grasped 
his  outstretched  hand. 

THE    END. 


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